


Temporal Currents

by TwilightsDawn



Series: Temporal Currents [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Single Parents, Time Travel, Time Turner (Harry Potter), World War II, Worldbuilding, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 183,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22904080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightsDawn/pseuds/TwilightsDawn
Summary: Hermione held the wand in her hand, it shook ever so slightly as she pointed it at the big, wide eyes of a child. Not even a child, a baby. A baby that blinked at her, making slightly hard labored breaths as if he was about to cry. A baby that she had come to kill. For it was not just any baby that now was wiggling little fingers as if to grab at her. She felt tears slipping out of her eyes. He would become Voldemort. He would take everything from her. Her wand shook even more so than before, her grip loosened by the sweat forming on her palm. She had to do this...A Russian Translation is available by the Lovely: magi_mahttps://ficbook.net/readfic/9625471
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Hermione Granger & Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Series: Temporal Currents [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723822
Comments: 727
Kudos: 1154
Collections: HP - TOMIONE, Hermione Time-Travel Excellence, if our love's insanity why are you my clarity





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> ~~~ WARNING~~~~
> 
> This fic will include darker themes including suicidal thoughts, brutal death scenes, child abuse, PTSD, and other references to traumatic events. If any of these things bother you please do not read.

Timing was everything. It had been a sick thought that had popped into her head as she found herself lying in the hospital bed at St. Mungo's. If she had been slower with getting ready for their date, if she had been unable to complete her paperwork at the ministry on time and had to stay a bit later if she had decided that they should have taken the train system instead if she had drawn her wand faster…. if she had done any of those things then they would have still been alive. 

She felt the tears well up again in her eyes. She did not want to cry anymore, she had done nothing but cry since she had received the news. But the pain of it all just made the tears keep coming whenever she even thought of his face. That stupid face that she loved. She had loved him since 2nd year. She did not know exactly why, but it had only grown and grown till the next thing she knew they were living together, married, and they were going to have a family.

She rubbed at her face as she sniffled and buried her face into the pillow to muffle the sound. Nothing she had ever felt or read could quite capture the feelings that were inside of her. There was just this horrible ache. Every moment that she was awake she wished that she was dreaming it. That she would turn over and see the man that she loved sleeping face and hear his deep breaths. All she would have to do was pull at his arm and he would have stirred enough to grab onto her and comfort her from the nightmare that she was having. 

Maybe he would wake with that half-smile and mumble a Hermione and promise her quietly whatever was upsetting her that he would fight it with her. He would protect her, that things would be okay. 

Now when she thought of his face she could not see that cute large nose or the freckles that dotted it. She could just see the way that it contorted as he screamed. The way his eyes had bulged and the way that his body had convulsed. 

How was she going to live without him? 

How was she to pick up the broken parts without him? 

Harry and Ron had been the foundation of her life, the pillars of friendship that had gotten her through all of life’s battles. And Ron’s love had made some of the greatest hardships seem as if they could be overcome. No matter what they faced. The political turmoil in the ministry or the random friendship squabbles, nothing could tear them apart. 

She had been happy… 

Something that Hermione desperately had wanted after having given up her family to fight against Voldemort was to form one again. She missed her parents and other relatives desperately. Even if she was sure that none of them even knew who she was. It had made it all that more painful that after the war she knew that she could not just come home to them. She could not just insert herself back into their lives. She had not stalked her parents, but she did visit them when they were out and about just following for a bit to see if they were happy. If they were okay. 

And there had always been a feeling that things were better without her. Her parents did not have to worry about what crazy antics that she was getting herself into. They did not have to be targets in a war that they never should be a part of. They did not have to deal with the ramifications of toppling Dark Lords that had sunk as many evil, twisted people possible into every branch of government.

Nor would they ever be one of the many missing case fills that found itself lingering on her husband's desk. He had quickly become an Aura not even having to go through as much extreme schooling as he had already been out there fighting the war. He was one of the best-known fighters that there had ever been. And Ron had taken it very seriously his responsibility to find both the remaining Death Eaters that were attacking from time to time in coordinated attacks. But he also felt that any other death that was happening, while he was on the job, was just another death to feel responsible for. He could try to hide it from her, but Ron had always been the sensitive sort. 

She knew that those cases were getting to him. It did not stop his anger and drive to find them, but she knew that after losing members of his own family to Voldemort’s forces that he took their actions very personally. Harry was not much better. 

She knew that she herself was handling things the best she could but there were so many holes that had been burned into her during the war. Friends had been killed in front of her. People that were basically her second makeshift family were gone. Harry had literally become her family as she had married Ron. She had believed that such an action would further help to build everything back. Help put the healing process back on track, because they did love each other and just something happy for a little bit to plan in the mists of everything had been one few things that had brought her great joy. 

Healing though did not happen as fast as she wanted it to. Even when she had completed her Hogwarts Education and had something to be proud of there were still things that pulled her back to the darker times. 

It had been a very slow process for her to put most of the pieces of herself back together, even though she was sure that she seemed to carry herself alright for the most part. It had taken years for her to really feel like she belonged with everyone again. Molly and the others were wonderful, so was Harry and Ginny. But there was always just a slight part of her that was still dwelling on the past reliving the war at Hogwarts and the torture in Malfoy Manner. 

But Ron, her Ron with his amazing will to see things in a different light than she did, had taken that pain away. He had held her on the long nights when nightmares came back. He would tell her that she was his light and that he would always be there for her, He would never leave her again stranded when she needed him.

And she had started to accept that she would make a very great Healer. She could help people with her vast knowledge of topics, and provide experimental ways of healing. She felt that she could save people and she certainly was. Being a healer had not originally been her long term plan of employment. She had always considered herself to be somewhat of a medler that was destined to help out with the political spectra of things at the ministry. But perhaps it was the need to help more immediately instead of playing games with the other politicians, and where it really mattered. had led her to be one of the present healers helping any way that she could after attacks that had been done on both Muggles, Witches, Wizards, or living creatures alike. Hermione did not care if someone was a half breed or blood or whatever it was. She could give them all the care that she could and they needed. Ron had always praised her for her gift for learning things rather quickly, even enough to get those internships. Well, perhaps it was not exactly praise but teasing. She would be a full-fledged healer soon. 

But she didn’t feel like moving from the hospital bed. One that could be occupied by one of the many in need that she could be serving. She could hardly move though without an ache somewhere on her body. 

She clutched her arm that had been badly burned and had now spell damage that would take weeks to heal. It burned slightly to the touch and throbbed from under the bandages, but that hardly mattered to her. No, the cruciatus was not the worst thing to happen to her. Her other arm that had the word MUDBLOOD carved into the flesh was not something that would heal with time not would it fade much like this new injury. The pain she was in could not match the pain of seeing Ron on the ground screaming. The sound would haunt her until she died. Nor could the aches in her bones ever replace the second thing that she lost besides Ron that night. 

She had been carrying a child. 

She was going to have a girl. She had been so excited about the baby. Tears streamed down her cheeks again, and she could not stop her whole body from shaking with the weight of it. She had not been too far along, but it had been something that she had celebrated. Something that she never knew that she would have wanted until it was made known to her that soon she could have had that little girl in her arms. 

She would have named her Rose. She had loved that name ever since she was little and as such the child she had been dreaming forever about would have had that name. Ron had admitted that he was hoping for a boy, but had quickly said that a girl would be even better. Ron would have been protective of her much like he was over Ginny. He would have been a doting father and would have wanted to teach her to fly, as soon as she could handle a broom. 

She felt along her belly remembering the heartbeat that she had been able to detect with her magic. Now there was not a sound but her own and her choked sobs. 

~/*\~

She could not stay at the hospital forever. She had to go home and the moment that she stepped into her home, she had collapsed onto the floor. Ginny that had been pregnant herself, and hopeful for a child hers could play with, bent down despite the slight difficulty to try and comfort her. 

She had tried to brace herself for it, but she couldn’t bear the look of the place. It was too overwhelming. The home was just so empty and along the very walls by the door were moving pictures of herself and Ron. There were pictures of him completing Aura training, and there were pictures of her graduation. 

She rubbed at her face trying to hide it from Ginny because she might have lost everything but her dignity was one thing that she did not want to lose. It was all that she had left. But even the great Hermione Granger-Weasely could not compose herself. She just cried her eyes out, till her chest felt heavy and she was coughing. She ended up leaving the house after Ginny did let go of the careful side hug. 

She just needed to get out of there...

The yard was not much better, but with the breeze blowing and the flowers that were blooming in the garden’s beds, it was nice. There were pretty white roses climbing up the side fence and she had to look away from it. 

It was a bit easier to picture that she was waiting for Ron to come home, that he would be home any minute, complaining to the man that lived down the street from them about the latest case. He would then pause and look her way and hop over the small gate. He had fallen a few times because while he was coordinated enough he still did make a fool of himself every so often. 

The cement slab that was under her and was the last step to the door started to get hard as she sat out there for far too long. She didn’t even know how long that she sat there. She could feel the heat of the summer sun and feel the breeze as it brushed her bushy hair back. It was soothing as she felt far too warm. 

“You could stay with us for a bit,” Ginny said softly. 

Hermione had almost forgotten that she had someone else sitting there with her. 

“I don’t want to intrude.” She could not make a smile despite her honest effort to. She sounded fragile even to her own ears. She could not hope to say that she would be fine and have a remote chance at being believed. 

“It would not be intruding at all.” Ginny held onto her, pulling her as close as she could. “We’re family and family takes care of one another.” 

She felt tears prick her eyes again. “Thanks….” She croaked out. 

She had to go inside again to get her things, even if she would not be staying. As she passed their room, she stopped by the open doorway to another small bedroom.

It was the happiest day of her life really when she had started decorating the old study and turning it into a baby room. Ron had been so helpful with transfiguring some of the household objects into things that would be suitable for a baby. Mrs. Weasely had given them a crib for the far corner and a nice pink knitted blanket for when the baby did arrive. 

She had thought that it was possible that things were going to work out despite the after war tensions and the random attacks. She felt stupid standing there in the empty door frame. There was no way that anyone that had served such a man would let her and Ron live out a happy life. If she had been born Rose would have been in danger too. 

Still was it so wrong to want to have had her, despite the danger? Was it so wrong to want to hold the little girl close? 

Even if times were wrong, and things could have gone horribly wrong she could not bring herself to hate the idea of it. She would have been loved. Hermione would have loved her more than anything in the world. She felt again at her belly and then pulled away when she realized what she was doing. 

She for the first time since the accident wished that she had died with them. If she had died Ron would have been devastated, but if they both had gone… 

If they both had gone then she would not be standing here with a feeling of loneliness that was so crushing that it seemed inescapable. She wouldn’t have to feel these things. She knew logically that Harry and the others would have been even more devastated if she was not able to pull through, but she would have never had to see the pain on their faces. She would have been at peace. 

Ginny did have to pull her away from the room in the end because Hermione just couldn't bring herself to move.

~/*\~

The next few weeks were horrible. They had a funeral for Ron, it had only brought the realization that he really was gone. It had made her numb by the end of it all. It did not matter how many people came promising her that it would get better. It did not matter how many Auras came to not only give their condolences but make promises that they would catch the people responsible. 

Hermione had given her memories of the event to them. She didn't really want to answer questions. She spent the days that followed in a haze. She had tried to get herself to have the motivation to go back to work, to try and get something in her besides small bites of Ginny’s cooking and large amounts of tea. 

But it was just so hard. 

Everything felt so hard. 

Harry was the one that eventually broke through the haze. He had said in no short of terms that he wished that he could go back and stop it all from happening. He wished that things were different but there was no real way to change it. And that had really been what got Hermione to thinking, what if there really was a way to stop it all from happening?

Now she knew that she really by the laws of time could not stop Ron’s death or the death of their child from happening. As she looked more at the memory than she wanted to. She had picked it apart so there really truly would be no way to go back without her old self and her new self interacting. 

But there was one thing that she could do. She could go back and kill Voldemort before he rose to power, and long before he would become a threat. To do that it would have to be when he was younger as Harry had told her long before when he had faced Tom Riddle the Diary in the chamber of secrets he was already quite powerful even in his early teenage years. 

It was a stupid idea and she had to be half mad to be considering it. But as the second month since Ron’s death dragged by the thought of stopping the Dark Lord from ever existing and stopping him from causing nothing but pain on par with her own for countless others fueled her into thinking more and more about it.

And it hit the point where she was checking books out about it, scavenging through tombs that should never be read. The Dark Arts were not something that she was comfortable with, but if it could help her… 

If she could stop all the pain then her soul for the salvation of hundreds of lives was a small price to pay. 

If she did this, then there was no going back. Her trip to the 1920s would be permanent and whatever damage that she did while there would be permanent. She would be trapped there till either she fell apart by not taking the proper precautions and anchoring herself to that time or she would die long before she could see the people that she currently loved be born into the world.

They would not know her if she did this. They would grow up in a world that was not tainted by a war that destroyed families. She would not exist to the wizarding world, having done her task and slipped her way out of history. And if she ran into trouble, with the Muggle World Wars or otherwise there would be no one able to help.

Even with all the risk Hermione still believed that it was worth it. She had nothing really to live for any way at this point, or at least it felt that way. She would never tell the others that though. 

There were, of course, a few ways to go back in time that she knew of one way was with a time turner and the other was with rituals. 

Most of the time turners had been collected and destroyed. But that did not mean that they all were. Nor did that mean that she would be able to for sure get her hands on such a device. But she could try. They would be things that were offered on the black market and if she was careful then she could be able to get her hands on one. They had safety precautions in place and learning to manipulate one into allowing her to travel further back than what was allowed could cause problems. 

There were also a few rituals. She had just found one with the means to do what she wanted to do. It could send her back to any specific time, but it was complicated. There were things that easily could go wrong. But she was willing to take the risk. 

Blood magic would get her back to that December night when Tom Riddle would be born. It would be a lot of blood, and she would possibly be a little woozy after it. Some ancient magic was like that though there was a give and there was a take. 

There was still the issue with lasting damage that could be done to a person that stayed in the past for long periods of time. She would have to combat that with crafting and anchoring ruin so even if she altered the time frame greatly like she planned to do she would not just stop existing. She could make a talisman, but then that thing would need to be worn at all times.

No, the better option was to carve the symbols into herself so the only way to break her anchor would be to cause great damage to the ruin itself. 

~/*\~

Hermione knew that even if she did the ritual that she was planning that something could go wrong. It was not like time-traveling like she was doing was an exact science. To better prepare herself she read as much as she could about the culture and time frame that she would be entering. 

It would not do if she wanted to live out her life in the past if she would find herself in the middle of a bombing raid or where Nazis would be marching. She also needed to blend into the culture of the time and as such, she would need to know what was expected of women from both the Muggle world and the Wizarding. 

It didn’t take her long to bring herself up to a sufficient speed about what to expect. Nor did it stop her from stuffing her bead bag with every scrap of paper that she knew that she would miss as it would not have been written yet. 

The very last thing that she did was barrow memories from Dumbledor’s old pensive that Harry had taken with him home after the battle of Hogwarts. He tended to use it to help him look over cases and allowed Hermione to use it on occasion. She had used it to relive Ron’s death night over and over. She had lied when she said that she had visited old memories of him. And she did feel a bit bad for lying to Harry but not enough not to look into ways to save them all. She had recently though stolen and looked through the memories that were collected on one Tom Riddle. And by what she had seen she found that she felt a bit sorry for the boy that would become the Dark Lord, but not enough to put aside her plans. 

~/*\~

The carving was a lot harder than she had expected. She knew that it would be painful but she had not known how bad that it would be until she had started. She had decided to place the symbols on her leg as it would be the 1920’s and it would be easier to conceal that way if it was on her upper thigh. The ruins had to be carefully done and it took her hours due to both the pain of it but also because she did not want to accidentally mess up and have to start all over again. Not when she needed the mark to be cursed to make it permanent. 

When her very careful ruins were done she started to work on clearing her basement for room in which to draw the ancient symbols. She had started with making sure that the lines were made in chalk before she took to going over them with the blood of a few animals. She then lit a few candles and placed them on the few swirls in her complex web of runes and enchantments. 

She positioned herself in the center of the web. Stood in the exact spot that she needed to and prayed that this would work. She had on her, her trusted bead bag that had everything that she could possibly need for her new life. Everything of value sentimental or otherwise was in there. 

There was no turning back now. She was doing this. 

She read the ancient incantation out loud. The circle began to glow and she could feel the floor was pulling at her, the strength of it brought her to her knees. The book in her hand started to try to fly out of her hands as the pages whipped back and forward and turned themselves. She took the knife that was covered in a potion that would help it to heal the cut it made fast and sliced her arm by the word MUDBLOOD and her blood dripped into a puddle under her feet mixing with the painted lines. It caused the pull to become stronger.

Her hair was flying around her, and there was an unknown wind that was now starting to blow out each of her candles. 

Suddenly the floor gave way and she was falling into a blackened space. There was nothing but the drips of blood from her arm flying upward and the book in her hand burned. 

And then there was the soft earth under her. It was a field somewhere. She could feel the wetness of the tall grass. She stood casting a drying charm. The place she stood was where her house had been many years in the future. But now it was just a wet patch of uneven grass. 

She put the book into her bag and called forth her wand so that she could take the blood off her clothes it would not do to have blood on her as she started her search for Wool's Orphanage. After all, she had a Dark Lord to kill.


	2. Part ll

The apparition and walk to the orphanage was a short one but it was cold and Hermione found herself casting warming charms. As she might have known that it would be cold before she had lept through time but was not aware that it would be so fridged. It was not a night that someone would want to be out in. Especially if they were about to give birth.

The empty streets were evidence that people were elsewhere perhaps sleeping soundly before the New Year’s Eve would be upon them and they would find ways in which to celebrate.

She adjusted her scarf and pulled her long transfigured coat tighter around herself. She kept a close eye on the street around her. Even if the only person that she saw was a man outside of a small apartment seeming complex having a smoke. He did not pay her much mind. But Hermione had her wand ready and up her sleeve, if need be.

Even if it was years before the Death Eaters Hermione was not foolish enough to think that there wouldn’t be other people that were just as dark lingering around at this type of night.

She never had her wand out of reach since the attack and she did not think that the habit would end any time soon.

Wool’s orphanage was a very gray beaten down brick building. Hermione felt that the place looked more like a prison then it did a facility to raise children. The large gates bared entrance and one could only wonder if it was also to keep the children in and from leaving or to keep unwanted solicitation out.

She cast a few disillusion charms on herself and then a couple that would aid in hiding the sound of her movements in the facility. Getting into the place was as easy as just using the unlocking charm and entering the building. The orphanage was larger than it looked on the inside. The walls were well worn and the paint was peeling and stained in places. Even with its rather dull coloring, the place did seem to have been decently cleaned. There were still some higher corners that had dust in them and a few spiderwebs hung from the large lobby chandler. Hermione supposed that the children that must have helped to clean the place would not be able to reach such heights. The halls between rooms were narrow. There seemed to be a room for each child or at most, there was a pair of children stuffed into some of the larger rooms. They each looked much like a cell with no sign of toys or anything hanging off of the walls. Each room was a bed with old blankets that were faded and each room seemed to have a window, though some had nothing to stare at but the other buildings' brick wall. It reminded her more and more of a prison the more she peered into the children’s little cells. 

It was almost eery the way she could hear soft children's voices as they talked to one another and the distant sound of babies crying. There were no adults that she could see, making her feel as if the place was highly understaffed. And if the place was so understaffed she could not see any child receiving any sort of real affection. Children needed that sort of thing to develop into fully functional adults. 

It was hard to picture any child growing up here. She had only seen one short memory of the place, it had been when Professor Dumbledor had been visiting and meeting Tom Riddle for the first time. He had stolen a few toys and had a small postcard on one of the walls. She could see why Tom would have wanted those small stones and other trinkets. There was not much to play with here besides other children, and knowing that weird things would have been happening around Tom. Hermione could not see him having any friends. 

She had struggled herself in school before Hogwarts to make friends. There was always a disconnect because she was able to read things at higher levels, and found that she got along better with mature adults and older kids than those that were her own age. There also was the fact that she could be off-putting because weird things happened around her when she was upset. Things would crack randomly and things would fly across the room. 

If put under stress by caregivers and other children was persistent enough, she could easily picture magic being used as a defensive meconium and a way to try and control what seemed like a place that could be near uncontrollable circumstantially to a kid. 

As she came to the middle of the facility she finally could see one of the adults. They were carrying a basket full of close there were a few younger children trailing after her, doing their best to keep up. And while the caregiver did not seem to be behaving horribly towards them, it was almost like she was dismissive of them. They were helping, but she didn’t say anything to them, like once we're done we can play, or offer anything of encouragement. Maybe it was just the times, the place felt a lot colder now than before.

She eventually reached what must have been the baby ward. There were more people in the halls here. There were seemingly two cramped nurseries. And she stopped poking around when she overheard someone walking quickly down the hallway.

“Well have a new arrival for certain within the next few hours.” A fierce-looking older woman with blond hair was striding quickly past the two nursery assistants. They looked spooked having been caught in a conversation that sounded like nothing that had to do with work. But the stern-looking woman did not seem to care. There was a shorter, plump woman straggling behind her.

“Yes that girl is not long for this world.” She called after the woman slightly out of breath. “Terribly sick she is.” 

“Yes, how good of her to bring another mouth to feed here. It is not like we have room for the baby. And by the looks of her, he will not be adopted.” The woman was just about to turn the corner and Hermione quickly fell into step behind the two as she knew full well who they were talking about. 

“There is hope that they won’t look like her.” The plump woman again seemed to be trying to look to the bright side. “As long as the eyes come out alright, they can probably get a decent job when they is big enough to help out.”

“Yes one can hope that they are not nearly as slow.” The woman paused by the door to an older room. Her eyes traced the hall. She seemed to look exactly where Hermione was standing but then her eyes swiveled away and towards the plump woman again. “That woman can hardly speak after all.” 

The short one shook her head. “That poor girl must have been raped. I can’t imagine that she had a husband that left her like she claims.”

“Indeed.” The well dressed one nodded, her graying hair that was tied in a bow bounced with the action. “There is no way that she was a streetworker.”

She opened the room and stood by a bed. There was a woman there that was near silent. Hermione would recognize the face of her anywhere, it was the woman that she had seen in a few memoires. 

Merope Gaunt was not a very good looking woman. She had a rather pudgy face that shared a resemblance to her father and her brother. Her one eye was indeed a lazy one because even if the one good one was focused on the strict well-dressed woman and the plump woman that was helping her. The other was still looking at the bedsheet. Her hair was a mess of black tangles that were thin and dirty. She looked horrible with her face contorted, and her labored breathing. 

It had not occurred to Hermione how young Merope would be. She must not have been even into her 20s. She looked like she would still have been in Hogwarts if she had been allowed to go. 

“Relax you, stupid girl.” The stern woman hissed. “Or the baby will not come out right.”

Hermione cast a slight calming spell in an attempt to help the situation, feeling horrible for the girl that was before her. She had been abused by her family, and even in the very end, it seemed that she could not escape it. Merope did not settle well even with the help and Hermione had to leave the room as the sound of it, and the degrading comments that the woman was making towards her made her hurt in a way that she could not describe. She opted to stay in the hallway. 

All that she really could think to herself as she waited was that Merope Gaunt really was a pitiable creature and that the other members of her family may have deserved to die for their treatment of her. Tom Riddle Sr. did however not truly deserve it. Hermione felt that the girls' advances were awful and that him leaving her did probably ensure her early death. But the man had in no short of terms been raped under a love potion. Merope was a person that was in such desperation to get out of a bad situation and to be loved, that she would have done anything. And perhaps that was what made her even more pitiable. Everyone no matter who they were wanted to be loved. 

She would let Merope have her little time left with her son. Surely she would love the child with everything that she had left. And then Hermione would finish the job. Merope deserved to have some sort of happiness in the end.

It was hours before the stern woman and the plump one exited the room.

“Get the paperwork, quickly that woman looks as if she is on death's door.” The blond wrinkled her nose as if there was disgusted at either her assistance lack of planning or the fact that she knew that she was right about the death coming. Hermione could not detect any sympathy so she could only assume that the wretched woman was more concerned with having to deal with the body that would be left when Merope departed. 

“I shall get right on it Mrs. Wool.” The stocky woman bowed a bit before rushing off as fast as her short legs would carry her. 

The stern woman Mrs. Wool returned into the room after that and Hermione followed her. She entered to see a very tired and sad looking Merope clutching onto the baby that was laid next to her. She did look like she was on death's door the way that her breathing was ragged and her eyes seemed to be sinking into endless black pits. It must have been the shift in lighting that made her all that more grotesque to look at, but also look a lot more sickly. 

“What do you wish to name the child.” The woman sniffed, sitting herself down on the open wooden chair by the bed holding her longer skirt as not to sit on it. 

“Tom.” Merope said quietly a few tears slipped out of her eyes. “Like his father.” She fell silent and looked s if she could not keep her eyes open for much longer. Those pail eyes were moist with the thought of leaving her son. It did not seem to matter all that much to Mrs. Wool. Hermione wondered how a person got to be so cold.

“Tom. Yes, fine, a first name, but what shall be the rest of it.” Mrs. Wool scowled trying to get it all over with. 

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.” Merope rasped. She clutched onto the child, now with her thin fingers. 

/*\ 

Merope died when they were still signing the papers. The little Tom was pried not at all gently from the dead woman’s grip. He was held much in a way that a doll would be held by one of the older orphans that seemed to be the one that was watching the babes in the early morning. She had basically yanked on the tiny frame's arm to get him into her arms. There was a moment that he was dangling there like a little rag doll.

Tom made a soft cry at this, but did not do much of anything else as he was quickly adjusted by the exhausted-looking plump woman from before. 

“Careful with him.” was all that she said about it as she finished up with the paperwork. 

Hermione followed the younger girl back to where the other babies were. 

“I don’t like you already.” The girl said poking the baby hard in the side. Tom did not really respond, he looked too tired to. “You're going to be one of the slow ones I’m stuck taking care of forever.” 

She then placed him into a crib and made her way back towards a small table that seemed to have been converted into a desk and pulled out some sort of newspaper and started to busy herself with that while a few of the babies near her started to cry and she got up again to shush them rather forcefully. Hermione just stood there in the corner watching. It seemed that it was not only Mrs. Wool that was capable of being cold.

/*\ 

It was another hour before the girl had left to check on the other room of infants. Hermione shut the door and locked the room. She was half tempted to hex the girl to teach her a lesson about caring for people that were placed in her care, but she didn’t have the time. 

She stood in front of the old cradle and looked at the baby that was inside of it. She could really now look at him, now that he was not being blocked by his mother's arms, or being wrapped up like a little burrito. He was a small thing really. A very small thing. Perhaps he had not gotten enough food in the womb or he was born too early, either way, he was too small. He almost looked fragile like a little porcelain doll. He was pale even in the dark lighting, his face seemed to reflect the light. The dark whisp of black hair and his eyes were the contrast to his complexion. He had his mother's black hair. His eyes were wide and the big brown eyes were looking up at the sky. She did not know why but she felt as if those big brown orbs were looking at her, even with the dissolution charms. It was like looking into the eyes of a cow they were just so wide and deep brown.

She drew her wand she knew the spell that she had to cast. It would be quick painless. She didn’t want such a little thing to suffer. But the words did not leave her lips. She had to mean it. She had to want to use the spell to make it kill. Tom's eyes flickered shut and opened again. He turned his little head now and she could see the slightly pink to his cheeks and his little fingers had tiny little fingernails on them.

Hermione held the wand in her hand tighter, trying to will the words to come. It shook ever so slightly as she pointed it at the big, wide eyes of a child. Not even a child, a baby. A baby that blinked at her, making slightly hard labored breaths as if he was about to cry. The baby that she had seen handled roughly and knew would only if left here grow up to face possibly worse abuse. She knew what that cold life would lead to or if there was something already wrong with the child being conceived under love potion then it would only help to create.

This was the baby that she had come to kill. For it was not just any baby that now was wiggling little fingers as if to grab at her. As she realized that he had somehow affected her charm that she had placed on herself. Those eyes were now for sure looking at her. 

They were glistening as he started to cry softly. It was such a horrible sound. She didn’t want him to cry. She didn’t really want to hurt him. 

She felt tears slipping out of her eyes. He would become Voldemort. He would take everything from her. Her wand shook even more so than before, her grip loosened by the sweat forming on her palm. 

She had to do this…

But the wand still shook even more in her hand as she tried to steady it. He had not done anything yet. He was not even a day old and she was going to kill him for something that he wouldn’t do for nearly 2 decades. 

He was reaching for her. He needed help…

She brushed the tears from her eyes and tried to think of all the horrible things that she had heard and seen him do. She tried to picture the countless faces that would die because of him and even when she tried to hold onto all that hate that she felt for that vile man... 

No matter how she tried to picture it…

She could not see the small little thing that was now crying as someone that would do such horrible things. No in front of her was a blank little slate of someone that could do anything, become anything.

He didn’t have to become Voldemort.

Maybe she could save him.

She put her wand back into her pocket and reached into the crib, she gently picked up Tom and he stopped crying as she held him close to her chest. she laughed just a little through her tears, that was all he wanted. He wanted to be held and maybe get some food in him. 

He was so warm and so small. He opened a toothless mouth at her. He could not smile yet. Infants this age did not have the capability. But it felt like he was smiling at her. He made a slight gurgling noise as if trying to talk to her. She held him a little tighter, supporting him so that he started to close his eyes. She felt as if that meant he trusted her. She could keep him safe. He never would know unkind arms like the ones that had taken him from his real mother again. She adjusted the near sleeping form so that she would be able to carry him better, wrapping him again so that he would be warm. As she adjusted him one of his hands moved as if to say no. 

He was just so small the cold wouldn't do him any good. So she gently tried to coax that arm back and as she did so his little hands gripped her hair and he pulled on it with a strength that did not feel possible for such a small thing. And she felt the damn break and she just cried holding him closer yet, feeling a small delicate heartbeat and knowing what her own grieving could have caused her to do. She would have to be a monster to hurt him, to hurt a baby. Killing a baby was a very Voldemort thing to do. She must have known that deep down. She cried a few minutes longer. The little mass in her arms, seeming to settle down and accept the warmth. 

/*\ 

She took him with her, which probably was not the smartest of things to do till she got everything settled. But she could not help it. There was no way she was leaving him a second more in that place. She did not know quite where the protectiveness had come from. But she was going to raise him and as such he would be her son, and mothers did not leave their children in places that they would not be safe. 

She had ideas about where she would be going, she had gold to do it and could easily get the coins needed for Muggle residency. She already had forged documents for herself, she would just have to make sure that she got what she needed to include the small very bundled baby in her arms. 

The first thing to do was get herself some formula and diapers she was going to need a lot of those. 

/*\ 

Lodging was not hard to secure for the night. Her money from her time was not nearly worth what it was currently. For all practical purposes, she was quite wealthy and easily able to get herself a room at a wizard run Inn outside of London. Being with a child might have also made it more pressing for the Innkeeper to want to house her. The first thing that she did when she did get into the room was set up a small place that she could put Tom down while she prepared him something to eat. 

Tom was not too excited it seemed to be trying the formula and Hermione did her best to be patient with him as he fussed and twisted his little head away. She was tired by the time that she had gotten him to eat, changed him, and changed herself. 

She laid down on the warn out but a warm mattress and carefully slept with a protective arm around him. In the morning she would set about looking into getting them a permanent place and secure the false documents needed to show if need be that he was her child.

She knew of a blood ritual that would make an adoption permeate and Tom appear to be her child on any blood test that could be conducted to test that fact. It would just take a little while to prepare. She also was by no means keeping the full name that Merope had given Tom. If he were to have those seeming ties that could be traced back to his own mother there could be problems. No, she wanted it to seem like he was her child and there had never been any other family associated with him. 

It wouldn’t be that hard. By her paperwork she had made for herself, she was a half-blooded Witch from America. Blood status was something that held great meaning in Europe and she did not wish to make starting her new life any harder than it had to be. She respected what she was, but to be in a good situation to make changes, or hold any political power, she had to be considered at least a Half Blooded Witch. She had married a Muggle Born, and that was where she placed her show of their value. The fictional man by the name of Ronald Granger, as she could not picture marrying or loving anyone as much as Ron and knew that if she added the title Weasly it would just cause unnecessary issues. She had documented that he had died nearly a year ago. Now her story just had to include that she had been pregnant at the time. It made her quite ill to think about it. The subject of the lie now becoming very close to reality, too much so for her liking.

No Tom M. Riddle would not exist. Instead, he would be Tomas R. Granger. The R for a middle name in respect to both Ron and to Riddle for the sole purpose of at least honoring a little bit of what Merope had wanted her son to be named. 

/*\ 

Tom woke her early with soft little choked cries. 

“Shhhh.” Hermione petted his little head, that had some dark wisps of hair. Those big brown eyes glittered as he continued to cry. “It's alright, I’m here.” She transfigured a few hairpins she had in her bag into a new set of baby clothes and used the bed to change him. 

It was going to be a lot of work to take care of Tom and get herself set up. She might need someone that she could count on to watch him while she ran errands. 

But who to trust with such an important task. She did not want to see any repeat of what she had witnessed at the orphanage. She did not have any friends yet nor did she have the connections to ask who would truly be good at the job.

There was an idea that came to mind, a lot of pureblood families had house-elves help with raising children. They were trustworthy, and they were trained for that sort of thing. But she would be lying as she sat holding Tom listening to the radio in her rooms soft music that the idea of it did not bother her. 

She had been proposing rights for them after all and had been a big activist in the bills for fair treatment of magical creatures. She was sure that her actions did not win her any more popularity than she had at Hogwarts for the idea, but nonetheless she had pressed for it and had made small steps towards it. The idea of owning a house-elf just didn't sit well with her at all. But as she looked at Tom who was slobbering on his small fist in between naps, she really could not help it. She would waste a small fortune if she stayed in hotels rather than having a house prepared for her. And now that she had someone else to worry about as well, she really could not afford not to keep as much of her funds as she could.

She rubbed at her face. She could do this. The contract that she would make with the elf would be fair. It would include privileges that other elves could only dream of and she would treat the elf with thee most amount of respect that she could. 

Now the only problem was where could one get an elf? 

/*\ 

The Innkeeper Samual was very helpful in pointing her where she could get herself an elf. He seemed to find it weird that she would want one, as she did not seem to have a residence to stay at. But Hermione assured him that she would be leaving London shortly. She had plans to move to a small town that she knew would not be hit by the war that was to come. 

She was put in touch with a woman named Scarlet Mays. She was a well-spoken woman that had an elf that she no longer had use for. The elf in question was one female older elf by the name of Whimsy. Whimsy was not happy with the possibility of being dismissed. But was very quiet during the exchange that led to paperwork. Hermione would go over finer tuning details when she was alone with Whimsy. She did not think that a Witch such as Scarlet would want anything to do with her if she knew her elf was going to someone that believed that it was a good idea to pay them. 

Yes, Hermione could tell by the way that the half-blooded Witch spoke that she thought of Whimsy as nothing more than a thing that she had the right to get rid of, as Whimsy had helped to raise her two children and she had no use for the elf now that they were no longer in constant need of being looked after. 

The big-eared, wrinkled elf kept looking at Tom who would stare back, though Hermione knew that it was just in the general direction. Tom being so young was not really able to see all that well. Whimsy did though seem to be amused by the way that when she got close Tom watched her ears flopping with fascination. 

Hermione felt as if they would all get along no problem. 

With that settled Hermione moved onto making sure that she found them a residency in the small town that she had selected due to its remote location. The cottage that she bought from an old farmer would need a lot of work to fix up. But she had given him a lot more than what he was asking for to make him move out faster than he had originally intended to. 

The place really would need a lot of work even as the man started to move out and she ended up staying at a Muggle Inn that was miles away while she waited for the date that she could send Whimsy over there to clean. Until then, she had Whimsy going to Wizard shops for her, picking up ingredients that she would need for her adoption ritual. She only left Tom with Whimsy for an hour when she had traveled to a rather shady corner to get paperwork that would make Tomas R. Granger a real documented person.

When she returned, Whimsy was holding a sleeping Tom and she looked very happy to be doing so. Yes, she had indeed left him in capable hands. And her gut feeling that they would all get along greatly was correct. Her life in 1926 was not exactly what she thought but she had a feeling that perhaps it would not be as lonely, and blood-soaked as she had oringaily thought that it would be. 


	3. Part lll

It was warm. Hermione had her hair tied up because of the high wind and did not want it to get it into her face. She always hated tying it up, she would always complain to Ron about how the hair tie was just waiting to snap. Her hand was too warm and she could feel the sweat that was forming by having it joined with the taller man that was holding it. He smiled at her, his cheeks slightly raised by the dimple. His eyes were half-closed as he escorted her towards the restaurant. She smiled back at him pulling him closer so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. 

The evening smelt of smoke and potions. Such were familiar smells at that end of Diagon Alley. They passed a slightly darkened pathway, the narrow tunnel-like street was empty. Yet she paused at that moment and the man holding her hand was jerked to a stop with her. She did not know why but there was a horrible feeling creeping into her stomach. She felt as if her hair was standing on edge and that the breeze had become chilling. 

The shadows were moving and swarming into one sort of massive figure. She squinted not knowing what it was and it took shape, limbs and a torso. It was a man moving towards them, he had a mask on that glittered in the faintly lit street lamp. The skull with its many patterns twisted with the shadow that seemed to stretch behind him as more people came onto the less populated interchange. 

She felt the hand on her tighten and she went to raise her wand but a high pitched woman's voice screamed the spell Expelliarmus. 

A baby started wailing and she jerked her head to the sound. 

She woke with a start clutching her chest, thrashing a little in the bed that was not hers. She coughed scrubbed at her face as she remembered where she was. There was the soft sound of a baby crying and it took her another moment to remember that the baby that was calling out for her was Tom. Not Rose that would have been in her womb during the attack. 

She started to cry herself gripping at her shoulders feeling alone. Tom continued to cry, if not a little louder trying hard to get her attention. She rubbed at her tired eyes and scrubbed at her face trying to force herself to get up out of the bed. She was grateful that she had made the crib close to her bed and had not fallen asleep with Tom in her arms. She really could have hurt him. She unwrapped the sheet around her and picked up the infant. It was not as coordinated or as careful as she usually was with him. As she was so tired and still could feel her heart racing. 

Those eyes glittered in the dark like the mask that haunted her dreams. She frowned at him slightly, her breath catching a little in her throat. 

“What's wrong, Tom?” 

He, of course, could not answer her, she just started to rock him and he started to quiet down. 

“Did you wake up alone?” She whispered to him. “It is sort of dark isn’t it?”

The room was near pitch-black the only light was the faint trace that came from the hallway. She rubbed at her face again and did a little adjusting to Tom so that his head was on her shoulder as she did her best to dry her tears and then his. “I never really liked the dark. Don’t tell anyone because it's not that scary of a thing in all honesty, certainly not something that a Gryffindor should be scared of, but I find that I am more scared than ever of what can be lurking in it.” 

Tom coughed a little and then started to slobber on her shoulder. Where a few loud noises and she could feel that Tom was scared, she would be too if not for her wards.

“I promise that you won’t be alone.” She petted along his small head feeling at the short soft hair. “There isn’t anything to be scared of here and if there ever is something lurking. I promise to protect you.” 

She hugged him tighter because it was a promise that she was making herself in that slightly cold Inn room. She had not been fast enough to save Rose or Ron but she would not be slow again. She would be ready with her wand to protect them. 

She held onto Tom till the wee hours of the morning. He might have been sleeping but she was just there with her thoughts. Her thoughts that if she had gone through with it... If she had killed him...Then she really would have been alone in this time and place. And Hermione really didn’t want to be alone anymore. She had felt that way since she had lost her husband, even with Harry, and the others that were trying to comfort her. She had always woken alone and had cried silently as she waited for a good time to be up in the morning and not wake anyone else up. 

~/*\~

When the cottage was cleaned enough Hermione felt comfortable bringing Tom with her to the house. She had no intention of spending another night at an inn again. The place she was staying at was nice and all but she did not care too much for the constant disturbances and the need for the rather annoying woman that helped to run the place telling her that she had to make Tom be quiet. She wanted her own place, with a kitchen to cook her own meals, and she now had the means to set it up slowly and have areas that were inhabitable and not under construction. She could not be more happy to move out of there. There had to have been something in the air at the Inn that made her even more protective of Tom. 

Perhaps it was the fact that he had trouble eating and it was a fight each time to get him to eat the food in him that he needed so desperately. Or perhaps it was because he literally was all that she had. He was the only thing that she had to hold when her nightmare came for her. She would hear his wailing and she would think of Rose the child that she had wanted to have, and she would forget where she was and that Ron was not there to help her with any of it. She would shush him softly and rock him though her tears. Because it was not Tom’s fault that he was not Rose. Nor was it his fault that she no longer had what she did. Not really, he was just a baby… 

Hermione had chosen this fate. She had chosen it the second that she had sliced her arm and came back in time for him. It was a string of ironic fate that had her trying to raise him rather than kill him, knowing that she blamed the possible branch in his path for killing the child that she wanted. But fate and all that had a sense of humor, however, twisted that it was or could be, and she did not regret taking Tom from the place that he had been left. 

In a way she was all that Tom had too. He would cry for her anytime that he was put down and he was not sound enough asleep to not feel her arms around him. And even if it was stupid she liked the feeling of being needed and depended upon. 

She had always liked when others needed her and there was no one that needed her more than Tom did at this stage. She knew that it would be harder when he was grown and wouldn’t be holding onto chunks of her hair or slobbering on her fingers when she brushed a loving hand over his face. 

One might think that it could give a person satisfaction to know that the person that could become the Dark Lord was helpless and dependent upon them. But it was not at all how she felt. She had seen what the place he would have grown up in. She had seen how the Wizarding World that knew nearly from birth who was magical and who wasn’t and they left him there. They left him to the constant abuse and torment of other children and adults. And Hermione any time she thought that caring for a baby was hard would think back to that bitter Mrs. Wool and think to herself at least she didn’t ever rip her nails into Tom. 

At least the little boy was safe here...

He would grow up in a safe place.

She would help him to grow and be good. 

She did not want to think about what would happen if it was not the orphanage that caused Tom to become Voldemort. She did not know how she would ever be able to hurt him now. Now that he would cling to her in the night, and that she would cling just as hard back. 

She was attached…

She really hoped that attachment didn’t get her killed. 

She looked around the house the second that she apparated into the kitchen. Whimsy had done a pretty good job on at least removing the older furniture that was left behind and they would have no need for. Hermione didn’t think that her home would really need that much electricity so she set herself up for vanishing light fixtures. She provided her own lighting by magical fires that were contained into glass vials that would never go out unless she charmed them too. The first room that she prepared was Tom’s room. She wouldn’t be leaving him in there any time soon, but she needed a space to keep his things and provide a place for changing. 

It was still somewhat painful to create a baby room and she had to pause a few times when she made things that were far too similar to what she had in her own home with Ron. There was an incredibly off feeling with what she was doing right now. She was going to raise Tom Riddle of all people. She was creating him a bedroom that looked much like she would have wanted for Rose. Ron never would have approved of this.

And it hurt to think about it, but she knew him well enough that he would not have wanted anything to do with this plan. She didn’t think that Harry would have either. They both would have thought that she had gone mad deciding if a newborn Tom Riddle would like dogs on his walls or cute little dinosaurs. She could see Ron scuffing and suggesting snakes and skulls. 

She would not put that there. Nothing that could encourage the dark arts in her home. They would be too tempting for him. She had so many worries… 

She had no idea what she was doing… 

And yet when she looked at him all that she felt was hopeful. She was hopeful that he could be a good person. That he could learn if not to love at least care a little for other people. 

How silly was that?

Tom was in the small baby carrier when she did decide on dogs. His noises every once and a while bringing her back to reality and away from her dark all-encompassing thoughts. He was just over a month now and had started to move his head just a little more, and was better at tracking movement of things that were close to his face. He was also more vocal. There was a lot of crying, but she also noted that he made a lot more grunts and other noises if he seemed to have his needs satisfied. For the most part, Hermione took care of his every need almost instinctively. Even now she was checking frequently whenever he made a sound to see if he was okay. It was very difficult not to instantly want to move to comfort him, or to give him attention when he was awake. She had to pull herself away from him. 

Which felt like a harder and harder task.

Whimsy took Tom though, when Hermione felt as if she could not get up she was so tired, or when she just needed an hour or two to bathe and get some sort of work for their new lives done. And she was incredibly grateful to the elf for her help. 

Tom did not mind her but he did not like being separated from Hermione for long. Whimsy admitted that sometimes it felt like the poor boy cried till he fell asleep. 

~/*\~

When she had completed Tom’s room she had moved to making her own room. She took out many of the things that she had shrunk and had kept in the bag. 

The familiar furniture and the design of the room was reminiscent of that of her room before she had married Ron and made adjustments accordingly. She had a larger bed, a small work desk, two bookshelves where she placed her favorite books from the muggle world that had nothing to do with real magic and a few of the books that were fiction based that she had gotten in her many trips to Diagon Alley. 

She paused when she saw some of the children's books that she had packed. And Glanced back at the small baby that was asleep in the crib she had moved to be by her bed. She smiled slightly, “I think that you would like this one. It's called "Where is my hat?’’ It had a small cat wizard on the cover and he was missing his oh so important pointed hat. She would read him it perhaps later. 

Tom didn’t stir and continued to sleep as she finished up the shelving of the rest of the more harmless books that she had. She had started to make stacks of books on the floor that would be the library. It would have been a regular bedroom by design even perhaps the master bedroom. But Hermione had no need for a master bedroom. She had no want to ever get married again and she was fine with a smaller room. It was better that she converted the larger room to something that once he was older even Tom would appreciate. 

Thinking about that, she scowled at some of the more mature volumes that she had. She would have to ward some of the things so that he wouldn’t be able to get his hands on them without her knowledge. She would have to be careful what she allowed him to read as to not hinder his curiosity, but also not allow him to try or learn things that he was not prepared to know. 

She felt her eyes growing heavy and again was grateful for Whimsy who had taken over in case Tom woke and was to get her if it happened so that she could prepare him a bottle. The poor thing would be starving when he woke. 

She conjured the walls to become bookcases, feeling slightly drained from all the magic use, it was a nice relaxing task to shelve things by the subject. She had hundreds of books and she had chucked them all into the bag with no real order so she just kept thinking book and calling more and more out. 

It was hours and she had 40 different stacks of books, all sorted by subject waiting to be alphabetized. She glanced down at some of the darker books that she had, one that still had a slight blood stain from her hand stood out. It had gotten her here and she had hoped never to look inside that book again. And she wouldn’t have to if nothing went wrong with her anchoring ruins. 

“Mistress Granger.” Whimsy appeared in the doorway bowing slightly. “You told me to get you when young Master Tomas was awake.” 

They had talked about their contract in detail. Whimsy had wept at the idea of days off and pay. Hermione had managed to tell her that the gold was to buy herself things to wear that would be respectful to wear besides that of a pillowcase. She would not have her wearing anything like that no matter how clean it was. Days off were so that Hermione could have days alone with Tom and Whimsy could have rest. Whimsy had talked Hermione down into 2 days a month as she had no idea what she would be doing if it were not helping out in some way. Hermione had assured her that she would be able to find something. 

The old Elf still wanted to call her and Tom by proper names and Hermione had settled with it, if Whimsy would allow herself to eat what she cooked with them at the table, and accepted a room for herself. It had led to the Elf picking the space under the stars. It would have been a large walk-in closet for storage if the Elf had not moved in there. It had not been what Hermione had in mind but she supposed that she was happy that the Whimsy had moved some of the old furnishings that they did not need in there for herself. She had a child’s bed, a small nightstand for a dresser and the shelves to hold whatever things she collected in her spare time. Hermione had gifted her a small framed pressed flower that she had once had hanging in her bathroom so there would at the very least be some decor besides the enchanted light. 

“Thank you Whimsy.” She nodded, sighing and heading into the bedroom. She could not help but smile when she saw those brown eyes looking at her. 

“Hi there.” She smiled at him and Tom just blinked. He did not make even as much as a sound. He just looked at her in that way of his. And Hermione picked him up and adjusted him so that his head could rest on her shoulder. “I think we should have some food, would that be good?” 

Tom drooled a little on her shirt not at all having any idea what she was saying. Hermione sometimes felt a tad silly for talking to him like he could understand, but she knew that talking to a developing child even if they had no idea what was going on was a good thing. 

Whinky made the bottle and Hermione thanked her sitting in the living room chair and tried to get Tom ever the fussy eater to eat. She poked his little cheek a little and he instinctively tried to suck on it and that's when she put the bottle in. 

Tom looked very betrayed by her action, perhaps her finger tasted better than the rubber that made up the bottle. Either way she was just glad that she had gotten it in there. 

“There.” She sighed softly. “You know it can’t taste that bad. I mean there are certainly worse things.” 

Tom drank most of the bottle as a response, his eyes flicking open and shut. 

“It's okay to go back to sleep.” Hermione wiped at his mouth with her sleeve. “I won’t go anywhere I swear.” 

Tom fell asleep and Hermione adjusted herself so that she too could take a nap. She would need her strength to put up all the protective enchantments that she planned to. 

~/*\~

Hermione had the house elf watch Tom for a few hours as she put up all the wards that she would need to keep Muggles away from the place, and for protections for their home. She didn’t want anyone to be able to enter the property without permission. 

She had been itching to do the wards since she had first arrived, but did not want to leave Tom alone in a strange place, he needed to get used to Whimsy.

She never had wanted to cast all these spells again. She hadn’t done them since the war. And the ones on her own home she had professionally done. But she wanted to be safe, she didn’t want to be bothered. She didn’t want anything getting into the place besides maybe an owl with the morning post when she got that up and running. 

She liked being outside though. Hermione liked the small field that was surrounding the cottage. She could picture that in the summer it would be rippling fields of green grass. She would have a large garden in which to plant many ingredients that she needed both to cook and to make potions. She planned on selling potions for a living and perhaps finishing her healer training. Potions though she could do at home with Tom in arms reach. Healing would have to wait until he was in school.

She was still not exactly sure that she wanted to send him to Hogwarts. She did not like the way that he could encounter a giant snake if he was to go there, or the idea of the discrimination that was for sure to find him if he did manage to get himself into Slytherin. 

Who was she kidding…. 

He would be in Slytherin for sure. He had that blood running through his veins after all. 

The clouds overhead started to darken. The early February weather was still cold but much more barrable. She followed the fence along the property, making sure that she adjusted the outermost wards as she went. Soft snow started to dust the ground as she reached the small patch of woods outside of her properties edge. The dark forest reminded her slightly of the campus grounds. 

She gripped slightly at the tree that was closest to her, feeling the bark beneath her white gloves. She rested her head against it for a moment, allowing the silence to swallow her up. There was no sound here. It was just peaceful and all of her problems felt far away if just for that moment. 

She would head back in a few minutes. her arms felt far too empty without Tom in them. She would not say that she was obsessed with holding him, she just felt that he needed the love and she felt more content herself holding onto him. It didn’t help that most of the time that she did put him down that he would cry. She could only imagine that if he had not fallen asleep he was giving Whimsy a run for her money. 

She smiled slightly. 

There was the sound of a branch being bent and something snapped. Her eyes darted around her, her wand hand grip tightened. There was a deer. He was large and his big eyes stared at her. He held completely still. She lowered her wand slowly as it bolted off. 

Her eyes misted a bit over looking at the brush where the Stag had gone. It had been a while since she thought of Harry. Really thought about him, he was always lingering toward the back of her mind, but she dared not to think of him. But the Stag... His Patronus and later his animagus had been a Stag.

She wondered if he was alright.

She wondered if they all were. 

She had come back to save them, but never stopped to completely think about how she would miss them so badly. She had pushed those feelings to the side, she had been focused on her mission a mission that had shifted. 

She could cause them to never exist…

She gripped her hair pulling a bit at it, trying to will her breathing back into something that was manageable and recompose herself. She had chosen this. She now had people that were depending on her. 

She was going to save countless lives. 

They just might not include the people that she had once knew.

~/*\~

The rest of the construction to the home was done with Tom in the room and Whimsy helped to unload her bead bag of everything and carried it off to the newly prepared and expanded places. Hermione had every plan to keep herself so busy with her home and child care that she would not be able to focus on the worries that were creeping up on her and the doubt about making the correct decision. She could not second guess herself if she was too absorbed with everything else.

~/*\~ 

Whoever that woman was that told Dumbledore that Tom had been a quiet baby must have been mistaken. Tom must have learned early on that crying didn’t get him anything and stopped wasting effort in his original timeline. Hermione, on the other hand, was attentive to his cries and so he continued to do them and while she did not have any baby guides out to check at the moment, mostly because the thought of bringing those books out of the library was near crippling. She could at least guess that the amount of crying that he did was perfectly healthy and would only improve his lung capacity. 

She shook her head as she tried again to get him to smile instead of cry. It was that time of day where she tried to get him to have some tummy time. He was getting better at being able to lift his chest a bit off the ground and head. He could get a bit fussy when she tried to do these types of routines with him. 

He also had the habit of rolling over, which usually made him smile. He was currently on his back now because of his incredible maneuvering to get that way. She would give Tom this he was quite determined. 

“Tom, look at Mr. Fluffy.” She shook the stuffed rabbit that had once been used to decorate her bed when she was a kid. 

Tom who was gaining a bit more control over his limbs reached up just a little bit to rub at the plushes face. He felt along the thing and his little eyes squinted and he opened his mouth and laughed. 

He laughed it had taken him 4 months and now he was able to laugh. 

He just kept laughing as if the bunny’s' faces was the funniest thing in the world especially as she shook it in front of him. 

Whimsy clapped her hands excitedly and Hermione smiled in the older elf’s direction. She shook the rabbit a bit more. And Tom laughed harder, his little feet kicking a little up in the air from the place he was laying on the blanket. 

Eventually his giggles subsided and he gurgled a bit as he was not able to use words yet, and he was not one to usually make noise if it was not to cry. Tom was quite fond of Mr. Fluffy but he much preferred his feet as they were better toys and he soon was playing with them curling his little fingers around them, the bunny forgotten about and Hermione couldn’t help but smile at him. He soon hopefully would be able to sit up all on his own, and then next came perhaps walking. Gosh, she did not know if she would be ready for that any time soon. 

~/*\~

Hermione had difficulty finding a job brewing medical-based potions, even when she proved that she could brew wonderful, strong potions she was still a half-blooded Witch. And that was what they first saw her as and then they saw her just as some young woman. Some of them thought that they could take advantage of her and boy had she ripped them a new one. She had proven before her first interview had settled that she was a fiery woman and that dealing with someone like her would take more than just flattery and trying to low ball her hard work. 

While the Wizarding World was more advanced than the Muggle one when it came to women’s rights they were not exactly thrilled with the idea of the working career-minded Witch. But they could not deny that her potions we're definitely better brewed than most of the common stock and it was inevitable that one of the company’s caved. And caved they did. She would be making quite a bit off of her Skele-gro potions among other things. 

She considered inventing a few potions early, just to help out with the many sick people that were laying hospital beds. But she was not sure that she was ready for that sort of commitment as that would cause more questions than she was ready to provide ‘answers’ to at the moment. She would rather just use the knowledge of her time to brew stronger, and more effective versions of what they were giving out currently, as to build a reputation that way before she did anything too extreme. 

Hermione brewed when Tom would be asleep. He was much better at lasting through the night and she would deliver the potions during his nap time. She had Whimsy help out with the cleaning and the cooking so she could spend more time with Tom in between potions. 

~/*\~

Hermione sat Tom down in her lap and made sure that they were facing a mirror. After she had read about it in one of the baby books she had been interested in trying the activity. Babies apparently liked to look at faces, and she wanted to introduce Tom to what he looked like. 

She sat close enough that Tom could touch it. He felt along the glass intrigued at what he was seeing. His brown eyes were wide like an owls. He kept putting his chubby little baby fingers into his mouth and then touching the mirror. Which Hermione found both adorable and annoying as she would have to wipe that clean later. 

“That's us.” She smiled, pointing at herself. “That's me Mom, and that's Tom.” 

The brown eyes looked at her and then back at the mirror. He opened his mouth a little in what was almost a perfect little O. 

“Tom.” She tickled him up his side as little and he giggled by the action. “Mom,” she said as he wiped his spitty hands on her.

They spent about 15 minutes in front of the mirror and Tom seemed very interested at staring at himself and waving his arms around in front of it. He even rubbed Mr. Fluffy against the glass so that the bunny’s button eyes clicked as it was shoved forward. Tom wobbled a bit on his feet as he attempted to put a tiny bit of weight on his legs. He wasn’t ready for walking yet. But he certainly was grabby, and not above crawling. Which he did to get out of her legs to go and get a different one of his toys. 

~/*\~

Life was settling down. She still had times where she felt incredibly lonely, but Tom did help with that. So did Whimsy, they would talk in the evenings and Whimsy would tell her stories about Scarlet May’s extravagant parties and other customs that she was familiar with. She did confess rather recently that she really enjoyed how Hermione allowed her to drink tea with her and borrow some of her books from her library shelves. Whimsy was very fond of cookbooks but did not understand in the slightest what a microwave was. Hermione had shrugged explaining that Muggles were weird.


	4. Part lV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can not thank you enough for all your support for this fic!

Hermione sat in front of a large desk, the room was similar to that of what she had seen in the headmaster's office on the one occasion that she had seen it outside of the Pensieve memories. The office was stacked with papers and other small magical trinkets. It was the office of the head of ordering at a Wizard Hospital that was located just outside of London. It was a growing place, that soon would probably have to be moved. Hermione knew where it would be moved, once they could take over that area of department stores. 

She had been called here because they were struggling to make the number of potions that were needed, as such they were very interested in the Granger grade that was made. As she was cheaper than some other options and because of her methods, hers were a lot stronger than the watered-down shit that they were selling at Flits n Bubbles main shop and exports. Hermione knew that in a couple of decades they would not even be around. They would cause such a scandal with a few of their botched potions that would make a great number of people sick. 

She really did not want to be here. She would have rather been at home, with Tom. Funny how she wanted nothing more than to be a recluse now when in the past she had been very determined to make friends and spend time with them in any spare moment that she had free from studying. Tom was starting to try to stand and she would be damned if she missed his first few steps while waiting in some office for the man in charge to show. 

Pollux Black had his work cut out for him if he wanted to become anything more than someone that got a job because of his father. Hermione was not sure if he was making her wait because he thought that it would make him more important seeming to talk to, or if punctuality only mattered when one was meeting with people that were far above the importance of a potion supplier. No, she had no reason to want to be here, not really. It was a possible promotion and expansion on who would be buying her potions, but certainly not worth her time if the person in charge was not going to see her or at least have the decency send someone to tell her why they were going to be so late. She didn’t need the money anyway, at least not at the moment. She picked up her coat and put her hat back onto her head. 

She was rather fond of hats now, the mill by her house-made fantastic hats. She put her gloves back on and sighed. It would be so much easier if she could just apparate out of the place, but Wizards didn’t tend to like that when it came to important areas like head offices, and potion storage rooms. There was always the chance that someone would take something or knock something over. She could understand the need for anti- apparition wards, but that did not mean that she had to like them. 

She stepped out of the office and paused. The man that was standing there looked exactly like Sirius Black from the younger pictures that she had seen of him. It was a match right down to the hair that seemed a bit fluffy and under some sort of charm that was coming undone as only parts of it were sticking up each way and that. 

“Harriet when is the spokesperson for Granger Potions going to get here.” The voice was a soft one, but one that held the edge of stress. He was trying and failing to fix his tie. Perhaps her first assumption had been a bit off. He did seem like he was trying to work for the company. Perhaps he had lost track of time. Not that it completely mattered, it was still rude not to at least have someone tell her the reason he was late, or offer her something to buy the time. 

Tom would be waking from his nap soon and she would like to feed him. She knew that Whimsy was capable, it was just that soon she wouldn’t be able to give him bottles anymore. He was moving onto a few solid things as practice now. And crawling everywhere… 

“I sent her into your office Mr. Black.” The teenage Witch that must have been fairly new to the position answered timidly. 

The man blinked. “Good Godric, they told me that Granger was a lion, no one said that she was a lioness.” He seemed to pause “ A Her really?” 

“Yes, Really. ” Hermione decided to enter the conversation. “And she has been waiting for nearly 30 minutes.” 

The man stood straightener upon noticing her. 

“It is nice to see that my reputation has not been tarnished since the first person tried to do business with me.” Hermione continued. “He tried to undermine my work by offering ridiculously low prices, thinking that I would not know the value of my own work. My family specializes in potions. I am well acquainted with proper prices. I think he was startled that a woman would know such things. He was rather a weak-minded man, don’t tell me that you both have that in common.”

“Of course not Mrs. Granger.” Mr. Black smiled slightly, it was a very forced one. “I am just not used to meeting with women when it comes to business ventures. Not many pursue such difficult careers.” 

“Yes well, that is probably due to the Ministry here. It is quite different the regulations and unsaid seeming laws that create a very interesting power dynamic. In America, we hold many Ministry positions and here I have yet to meet any woman that worked higher than a supervisor or a secretary for your departments.”

“You are from America, I take it.” Mr. Black nodded his head. “They do have different ways of running things.”

“That they do. I scarcely can fathom some of the reasoning that goes into who is capable of what jobs and such when one clearly has the credentials to be placed in higher positions.” Hermione adjusted her bag, making sure that she was meeting those silvery eyes. Black did not seem as standoffish as he was before. He smelt opportunity in the air. 

“I do have some rather high ranking woman here as healers, is there higher positions that you aspire to have Mrs. Granger.” There was a slight smile on his face. He really was Slytherin she could see his little ploy a mile away, however it was done very smoothly as to appease her. 

“Currently no, I have a newborn at home and plan on continuing to be more of a freelance until he is older. I, however, do see myself getting involved with opening a shop in the near future for my potions. I have a few new inventions in the works, besides the adjustments that I have made currently to the common potions.”

She laid the bait and waited for the man to take it. She might still have been annoyed with him, but she was not stupid enough to miss the opportunity to make possible allies where there needed to be some. Nor a chance to build her reputation and wealth. 

“Well, Mrs. Granger to open one's own business is quite the aspiration. You will need a steady buyer I am certain.” 

Yes, he probably knew that she also was playing the Slytherin game, but now they were both willing participants in the actions. They both were going to use each other to get what they needed. Or at least in Hermione’s case set herself up for better things in the future. 

“Perhaps.” She smiled slightly, unfolding her arms in a way to be more inviting to talk to. “Are you saying that you are interested, Mr. Black? I had a feeling that you weren’t having had me wait for such a long time. ”

“Call me Pollux, Mrs. Granger. And I am deeply sorry for making you wait. There have been some issues with the Ministry regulations on trying to get us to help Muggles in our facility. I was stuck there for a seemingly unending amount of time.” 

She decided to ignore that comment even if it set her bones a bit on fire. She had to play her role and then she could make changes. Influence gaining first, then preaching later. 

“Mmmm.” Hermione hummed a bit changing her voice to match his more flirting and welcoming tone. “I suppose that I can forgive you if we are to sit down and talk things through. I do need a few helpful buyers and I am sure that you are in need of better than the common grade for your more extreme cases.”

“Indeed, please step into my office.” He bowed slightly, to her and Hermione could not help but smirk when she turned from him to enter. How wonderful it would be to have him realize that he was bowing oh so sweetly, and flirting with a Muggle Born. “Harriet would you be a dear and make us some tea.” 

“But of course Lord Black.” Harriet chirped back. 

She spent another hour discussing, delivery, pay, among other things. She was grateful to be out of the office when it was all over. She didn't particularly like playing that kind of role, but she knew that she would have to use all her cleverness that she could if she was going to change things. It needed to be known that despite being a HalfBlood Witch that Hermione Granger was an unstoppable, and very powerful force. 

Tom was awake when she got home. He was standing slightly holding onto the table with Whimsy not far behind him ready to catch him should anything happen. There was a train on the table that Hermione had transfigured to look like the Hogwarts express. And Tom was doing a very good job at trying to get his little hands on it. Whimsy looked to be really enjoying herself, her wrinkled face was stretched out to a very nice smile and the glasses that Hermione had gotten her to help her see up close, were balancing on her larger hooked nose. 

Hermione watched them with a smile on her face. When Whimsy noticed that she was standing in the door frame she quickly pointed it out to Tom. “Master Tomas, your mother is here.” 

Tom looked about falling down onto the cushion under him that Whimsy sent to catch him. His big brown eyes looking around in that silent way of his. 

“Hi, big guy.” Hermione knelt down feeling her one knee pop by the action and thinking to herself that she was 25 and was far too young to be having anything pop. Tom looked at her for another long seeming minute before he started to crawl very determinedly over to her. 

“Master Tom ate very well today, Mistress.” Whimsy stood from her hunched over place by the living room table. 

“I’m proud of you Tom.” Hermione picked him up kissing his pudgy babyface. “He wasn't much trouble today then?” 

“Not at all.” Whimsy smiled wider. “He was a real pleasure, a real pleasure. He did not nap though, so I be thinking that he will need one sooner than later.”

Tom squirmed a little in her arms like a cat, trying to wave around the train that he had brought with him. 

“I’ll put him down early for bed then.” Hermione nodded. “He is getting quite good at standing isn’t he.” She handed Whimsy her bag and the elf took her thinner summer coat for her. 

“Yes, he is very strong. He is.” Whimsy placed the coat on the rack for her and the bag onto the floor next to it. “If you do not mind me asking Miss how did the meetings go. You was gone for quite a while.”

Hermione sighed. “They went very well, however they did keep me waiting. I expected them to. They do not hold educated women as highly here as they do where I come from.”

When I come from would have been a more accurate term but then Hermione was not telling anyone of her real origins at the moment, if not ever. The only way that she would even put it out there to anyone was if they saw the symbols carved into her leg and knew what they meant and she did not have the chance to obliviate them. She was pretty good at memory charms and would do anything to not be found out. 

Whimsy nodded hard enough for her ears to flop around a bit. “You are quite the strong and intelligent Witch, they are sure to see it sooner than later.”

“Thank you, Whimsy.” Hermione sat at the kitchen table as the elf quickly set about making lunch. She sighed deeply, holding onto Tom a little looser so that he could bang the train onto the table without much hindrance. “I am sure that eventually, all my hard work will make a splash. There is not much that can be done at the moment. I did just move this way after all.”

“Yes. Yes.” Whimsy agreed, setting down plates. “Mistress is very hard at work in the evenings. Whimsy just worries a little bit that Mrs. Granger will push herself too hard.” 

“I have not been sleeping as much as I would like.” Hermione did not want to admit that, but it was true. She had been having issues with nightmare creeping up on her, and with the worry that somehow, her beautiful Tom that now was babbling in her lap smacking the train harder would somehow still turn into the cold Dark Lord that she had seen in her original timeline.

“Mrs. should take a break she should.” Whimsy poured some tea by standing on the bench to the kitchen table. “Whimsy can handle a bit more work. Mrs can afford to relax.” 

“I think I will take the next few days off. I want to take a short trip with Tom to the coast with me. I need to pick up some fresh ingredients and I am sure that some sun would do him some good.” 

Whimsy sat down on the bench her fingers wrapped around one of the teacups. The sandwiches spelled over on a tray to them. Tom stopped banging his train to watch the action of them. Magic really was beautiful. Hermione knew that she used it every day and perhaps even took it a little for granted, but Tom he was not used to seeing it and he seemed just start struck anytime that it was used. 

“I think that is a good idea, does Mistress want Whimsy to watch the house for her when she is gone.” 

“I would prefer to have you come with us, but I rather not leave my home and garden unattended,” Hermione admitted having to adjust Tom so that she could take a bite out of her sandwich. He seemed to want some too, but he really could not have anything that was too solid at the moment. 

“Which is perfectly understandable Mrs. Whimsy is very good at gardening.” 

“You are very good at a great deal of things.” Hermione praised her. “I would not know what to do without all your wonderful help.”

Whimsy blushed and looked quite pleased with the praise. It was almost adorable to see such an old elf seem to receive care for the first time and not exactly sure what to do with it. It was sad in a way, but Hermione took pride in the idea that perhaps one day there would be more people that treated those that helped them with more respect. 

~/*\~ 

The trip was quite a quiet one. She got the local ingredients fresh and set out to the beach. 

Hermione covered Tom head to toe with lotion so as not to let his skin burn. He was so pale that the idea of the sun touching him felt like he would be set a flame like a vampire would. She tried to keep the sun hat on his head, but Tom liked to take it off and chew on it, so nothing short of a sticking charm would have been able to keep it on his head. He also had quite a bit more hair that would stick up in fun little cowlicks from all of the on and off hat games. 

Hermione sat with him on the shoreline, just letting the cool water touch their toes when it did role in with each wave. Tom splashed at it a bit and picked up handfuls of sand that she had to make sure were just thrown and not were attempted to be eaten. 

Tom cried when she did not let him put a rather large shell in his mouth. 

“I am sorry Tom, but trust me that was just in the ocean and it wouldn’t taste good at all.”

Tom sniffled. 

“There, there. One day when I tell you this story and you are older, you are going to thank me. Trust me.” Hermione rolled her eyes and picked him and their bag up. 

~/*\~

“Mrs. Granger.” Pollux Black greeted, as Hermione took to dropping off some of her potions to his father’s hospital or rather one of his many hospitals and projects. 

“Mr. Black.” She greeted with just as friendly of a tone. “Are you accepting your own deliveries now?” She raised an eyebrow. 

He chuckled. “Sometimes, when I decide to make exceptions for important clients.” He took the box from her and placed it onto the counter where he would have no doubt someone else stock it later. 

“Oh, so I am one of the important ones. I am flattered.” Hermione placed a hand onto her chest. 

“Well yes, that and I do so enjoy our conversations.” He tilted his head at her. “I have been looking into as you suggested into Flits n Bubbles and I must say that we shall be switching up our chosen manufactures.”

“Then I am glad that you and whoever it is that you were able to advise have come to see quality as something that is important to your patients and that I was able to lend a hand.” Hermione pretended to be flattered for real that he had listened to her. 

In reality she was just sort of relieved that she would not be working for someone that was truly incompetent. A few drug stores that she sold to privately were not nearly as wise. They liked her more expensive, hard to brew potions just fine. Because it was the middle class and higher that would be seeking such things out. They were more than happy to buy the watered-down stuff for their clients that would not really be able to tell the difference. 

“I would say that you lent more than just a hand. If we can provide better for our patents than it will all be worth it. Which reminds me, we were wondering if you would feel up to being our sole provider of the Drought of Peace.”

“We?” Hermione tilted her head. 

“Yes, my father, myself, and a few of our head Healers are in need of more of it. We have a lot of patents or family members of patients that are in desperate need of it when they come here.”

“I do not know, I home grow all of my ingredients and such a complex potion to do in large amounts would take a considerable amount of time to do. I suppose that I could become your main supplier, but I cannot become your sole one. I like to spend my time with my son.” Hermione tapped her chin thinking it over. 

“Ah, yes of course.” Black seemed a bit disappointed. “It is perfectly understandable, do you think that you would be more willing to become a sole supplier when he is old enough for school.” 

“I believe so, but he has just started pulling himself up onto shaky legs. It will be a while.” She nodded. 

Black actually surprised her by giving her a genuine smile at that. “They grow up so fast. My daughter is getting so big, she probably only is a few years older than your son. Her name is Walburga, and don’t get me started on that name, my wife was the one that wanted it. ” He chuckled. 

That was a name that Hermione was very familiar with, having been yelled at by that portrait regularly back when they had been hiding out at Grimmauld Place. 

“Tomas is 6 months now.” Hermione sighed. “I just want to spend all my time I can with him, while it's still amazing for him to have a protective mother. He seems so independent even at his age.” 

Tom had figured out how to hold his own bottles and would mostly do it himself if Hermione allowed it. She had just started him on solids and he would naw at some of the small fruit bits or cereal bites pretty independently. 

“Perhaps one time you could bring him in. I would like to meet the son of the Lioness that terrorizes the local markets, with her fluffy wild mane.” 

“He got his father’s hair, so no mane unfortunately.” Hermine felt a real smile creeping onto her face. It was always a good feeling to talk about Tom, there were too few that were really interested in listening and the topic never came up that much. Hermione Granger did not have many friends. She wished it were different, but it was not the case. Some people feared her outspokenness and some were more disgusted by it. 

“You do not talk about your husband all that much, what is he like?” Black finished up locking the backroom and started to walk her towards the door. 

“You don’t talk about your wife that much.” Hermione countered. “Except to discuss her odd naming choices and tea luncheons.”

“Touche, and I still think that you would enjoy going to one. It could help you with your connections. I mean my wife does know a lot of tutors and other people that would be useful to you in your quest to empower women or give you some space when Tomas gets older.” 

She did not really want to have Tea with a witch that was obsessed with blood purity, and she did not think that the people that she would have to dine with would be all that accepting of her pushing certain novel ideas forward. Lord Black was a bit more laid back with his ideals, but she knew that he did not favor Muggle Borns, nor like the idea of Muggles at all. She could not see his wife and her getting along, Hermione had a feeling that it was her that made Walburga Black what she was. 

“Your wife is an intimidating woman so I am told.” Hermione shrugged as she adjusted her hat and empty bag for apparition. 

“She can be.” Pollux agreed. “But I think that you would find some of her morals to fit alongside some of your own.”

Somehow Hermione very much doubted that.

“And she would be alright with meeting a Working Witch?” Hermione raised an eyebrow. 

“Usually no, but like I have said before you have made such waves that I think that most would be more interested than not in at least making your acquaintance. Think about it.” He added before dismissing her. 

Hermione apparated back to her home. She did not think that meeting with anyone that was a higher blood status other than for brief conversations that involved business would be enjoyable at all. But she would give Pollux Black this, he did have a point about making connections, as much as she loathed to admit it. If she really was going to change things and make a name for herself other than the lioness it seemed that she would have go to at least a few social events. 

Godric Damn it. She really did not want to dress in fine gowns and play nice with Muggle Born haters. She didn’t even know the etiquette to try and accomplish that sort of thing, to make the right impression. 

“Whimsy,” Hermione called and there was a crack as the elf appeared. 

“Yes mistress, Whimsy was putting Master Tomas to sleep.” The elf bowed slightly. 

“Whimsy you have to help me. It seems that I might be invited to social events soon, and I must confess that I have no idea on how to do that sort of thing.” Hermione confessed to the elf. 

Yes, she had read some etiquette books but that was nothing in comparison to trying to actually do such a thing in a very formal setting. 

“Whimsy would be honored to help, Mistress.” Whimsy took off her glasses so that she could get a real good look at Hermione. 

“Thank you.” Hermione settled a little backdown, knowing that with the help that she would probably not make a fool of herself for when she did eventually get an invitation. Which knowing how Black could be pushy would not be too far behind. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione rubbed at her eyes, she could hear Tom crying, she did not know why he was crying but she knew that she had to get up. 

He was standing when she got there holding tightly onto the crib’s high railing. 

“Oh dear what’s wrong.” Hermione cooed picking him up, cuddling him close and kissing that little face. “You can tell me.” 

She felt along his bottom to see if it was a dipper and was quite happy that it was not the case. She was a bit tired to fumble around in the other room. Tom made a bunch of noise that almost was like words but not exactly anything really understandable. She smiled sweetly at him for trying. 

“Mom is here. She is here.” She rubbed his little back. “It will all be okay.”

“Ah, Ahh, Ahh.” Tom gripped at her necklace, it was a locket with Ron’s picture inside of it. She had added Tom’s to it on the other side, as she found that it was a good place for one of his baby pictures. He promptly started trying to chew on it. 

“Hey now does that taste good?” Hermione chuckled. “I’m sure it tastes all metallically.” She gently tried to take it out of his mouth. “This one I wouldn’t want to chew on. No, I wouldn’t.” 

She brushed a finger on his nose and he let go of the necklace to grab that instead.

“Ahh, eeee Heeh.” Tom spoke again. 

She brushed his side and he giggled a little. “You are getting so good at talking.” She hoisted him up. “Yes you are. Yes you are.” 

Tom squealed a little at that, reaching for her. Whatever was bothering him was long gone. Hermione rested against the backboard of her bed. Tom’s attempts at talking wearing him out till finally he was back to bed.

~/*\~

It was when he was seven months old that it happened. Hermione had been trying to get him to eat some of the apple sauce that she had made. And Tom had been not happy about opening up for the snitch. He had been turning his messy face away from it. He was such a picky eater. Hermione could only hope that he grew out of it. 

“No.” He said, pushing at the spoon. Hermione almost dropped her spoon as she blinked at him and he had said it again. “No.” 

“No?” Hermione got her brain over the shock of him talking for the first time. 

“No. No. No.” He repeated excitedly. “No. No.” 

Of course, the first word that he learned was how to say no and he proceeded to say no to just about anything. It did not matter if he actually wanted something, he would just simply say no. Hermione was a bit happier when he started saying Ma. It warmed her heart in a way that she never felt before. There was just something priceless in having him call her name and then raise his little arms and say up when he wanted to be held. It was really hard to resist him when he would do that. She knew that carrying him everywhere was not going to help him learn to walk though and so sometimes she would have to refuse him to try and get him to try a couple of steps. 

Whimsy was a bit easier for Tom to intimidate with his cries into caving and carrying him right away. Hermione had to really sit down with the elf to explain that learning to walk really was in Tom’s best interest. 

The over next few months and many failed attempts Tom was able to take testing steps and stumble after a few of them. The few struggling steps soon would end and Tom would be able to walk and then run. Not that she was not happy that Tom would be moving around soon by himself, as that was a big milestone for him, but she was worried about what his grabby hands could get a hold of. Hermione knew that anything that Tom could touch was going to end up in his playful hands sooner or later and then in his mouth. 

As a precaution, she took to Babyproofing every last bit of her home, to make sure that the more mobile Tom would not end up getting into something that he shouldn’t. 

~/*\~ 

The next time that Hermione had run into Black he had invited her to a business gathering, that was to be held at the start of December. It was to give all the Healers and other employees time to meet and greet. She had a strong feeling that he sprung it on her so early as to make sure that she had no excuse but to go. She knew that there would be also interested parties in the hospital attending, and she could possibly get something out of going but, It did not make her too pleased with the idea. She had reluctantly agreed to go. 

December was going to mark her first year here and of course Tom’s first birthday. She did not know much about celebrating baby birthdays but Whimsy was excited for that and Tom’s first Christmas or rather Yule. Hermione let the elf be excited by the prospect, but it did not mean that she would be sharing the enthusiasm. The holiday made her anxious in all sorts of ways, and lonely in others. She was not looking forward to Yule.


	5. Part V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for all the love and support! 
> 
> Have another chapter :D

Hermione stood in a nice dress at the December meet and greet. She had honestly spent way too much time picking the thing out. She had wanted something that was flattering but not too eye-catching as if she looked too good she would stand up Mrs. Black and that was not something that she wanted to do. 

Not because she was intimidated by the woman. No, she was powerful for a woman of the time, had the right following and all that but Hermione did want to get on her good side. If not just to get what she wanted out of the arrangement. That would be access to meeting some of the few higher up Ministry members that were women. There were those that did simple jobs too, and Hermione would like to have some knowledge of what the Ministry was up to. She didn’t really like to manipulate people but she figured that it was for the best. A lot of history when it came to the time of Grindelwald was very filtered and even if he would not be stomping onto the scene anytime soon it was best to have the ins and outs. Hermione wanted to be big enough by that time, to be able to give some insight on how to combat someone like that. And of course to try and have people show some bloody compassion for the deaths of Muggles and Muggle Borns when it came to that man’s agenda. 

Yes, wizards had to stay hidden, but did they really have to let people like Grendelward slaughter people with the idea of the ‘greater good.’ No, she could not really stand by with that. Even if living a bit more of a peaceful life would have probably been a good idea. It certainly would be less of a risk. But Hermione while not being as reckless most of the time as Ron and Harry, because she considered to this day what had landed her in 1926 to be nothing short of reckless, she did do things that she figured could be considered heroic and noble. 

She did very truly want to help people and others. She was dedicating herself to that project currently and full-heartedly. And so she was at the party, she had tamed her mane as some called it, though she kept her claws out so to speak and her guard up. Most people here were working men and a few women. Most of the women though had come as a plus one but there were a few higher up healers and pure-blooded Witches. There were many people that donated to the hospital. Of those donations, there was a Rhodope Malfoy. She was not there with her husband and she was chatting it up very easily with all of the patrons. 

Hermione did not have anyone to go with and as such felt that she was a little out of place but she did her best not to look anything other than slightly bored. She was quickly approached by a man that she recognized as Larus Abbott that had yet probably to marry a Half Blooded Witch. He shared a few features with the girl that her dear friend Neville would eventually marry. He smiled at her and she smiled nicely back. 

“I think you are the talk of the party Granger.” Larus tilted his head and his golden hair went with it. “Though I was told that you had a rather untamed mane.” 

“My hair does like to frizz a bit by my potion-making.” Hermione chuckled pretending to be a lot more invested in talking to him than she really was. “Had to hold off on my orders to make sure that I could actually tame it.” 

He was a good Healer Larus, he would make Head healer in St. Mungo’s when it moved locations. He would be one of the people to build it to be a very respectable establishment after World War ll and would play a great role no doubt as he would marry late his wife and be a quote on quote possible blood traitor. Definitely a good ally to have. She studied him a little. He had to be in his late 20’s and had a very strong jawline. It was his eyes that really reminded her of Hannah. They were that very rich shade of blue, that combined with his light blond hair made him a rather good looking man. Hermione though knew that she still preferred Ron’s red to anything else. Thinking of him made her tap at her locket for comfort. 

He nodded. “I brew a few of the potions for the hospital myself, never had that problem but mine is not nearly as long as yours.” He chuckled a bit.

“I would be concerned if it was.” She played along. 

“That's because the trend has died out. “ He leaned a little in as he made a move to stand closer to her and the wall that was behind them. “Some people have yet to really get the memo.” 

She smiled turning just a tad away from him as to make her eyes trail the room there were a handful of people that had hair that reminded her of Lucius and his long straight hair. 

“I can see that.” She agreed with him. “Though there are a lot of people that would tell you that longer hair is also out of fashion for the ladies.” 

“Yes well, we can agree that sometimes fads like the bob and Chignon can go away. I like longer hair.” 

Ah, he was hitting on her. Implying that her hair really was wonderful, and she allowed herself to have a smirk at that. She had worked pretty hard on making her hair lay flat upon her head. She was so grateful for the charm books that Whimsy had recommended as part of her etiquette training. Proof enough that it seemed to have be having a positive effect. She should not have been all that surprised she was being hit on not wearing a wedding ring and he might have heard of her but not many people know anything personal about her life. She had taken off her ring because it got in the way of potion-making, and was a safety hazard. It also was a bit painful to look at. She had put it in the drawer at home by her bed. The one that she locked as it had a few things that were more precious to her. 

“So do I.” She folded her arms a little and leaned on the wall behind her. 

“Look at me complaining about hairstyles while I came here to compliment you. Like I said I do a lot of potions for the hospital, sometimes we healers have to make some of them when we are out. And I must say while I am good your work is otherworldly. I have never seen a more pure Dreamless Sleep potion with such a rich color or Calming Drought that took away the patients anxiety in less than a few milliliters.” 

He steered the conversation rather well, telling her in a way that she was pretty and then moving on to compliment her talents. He was quite the charmer. It was a good thing that she was anything but gullible. 

“It is kind of you to say, Lord Abbott. I take great pride in my adjustments to old recipes.” She gushed, pretending to be much more moved by his claims. “Trade secrets you understand.” 

“Of course.” Larus agreed easily. “We all have our own tricks to the trades.” 

Their conversation perhaps would have continued had it not been for the hostess coming to join them. 

“Hello Lord Abbott and you must be Mrs. Granger.” She smiled a bit weary looking at Hermione. 

They were complete opposites in looks really. Irma Black had fine black hair that was long but held up in a very elegant bun of sorts with twisted braids that seemed to have small flecks of jewels thrown about in almost a headpiece. She wore a very fitting and nice gray dress robe that gave her an appearance that reminded Hermoine of the lady in gray. She was posed with a wine glass in hand and her face was pale but defined with makeup that highlighted her rather impressively high cheekbones. 

Hermione smiled very kindly. “It is wonderful to meet the esteemed Lady Black, your husband talks highly of you.” 

“Does he now.” Irma’s eyes shimmered with something, they were that misty gray-blue that gave the illusion that she was a sea, a calm sea that could become turbulent and stormy in a second or two and by the looks of what she was expressing she was raining in that sea to seem calm. 

Yes, it was obvious that she did not like Hermione one bit. This would be problematic if she could not somehow swing her to her side. That would probably be a difficult task as Irma was probably just as trained if not more in ways in which to get what she wanted and twist people to be around her finger. 

“He does, but not as much as he talks about his daughter.” Hermione nimbly changed tactics. 

That softened the woman’s eyes if not just a tad. People liked to talk about their kids, Hermione found and it seemed that Lady Black was no different. “Our daughter just turned two and I fear that Pollux loves her more than he loves me.” 

“Fathers can be like that.” Hermione did not agree with her statement nor deny it. 

“Is your husband like that with your son.” Lady Black put up her thorns again. It was evident now that she was trying to deter Larus from speaking with her. Whether it was to separate him from trying to date a ‘half-blood’ or it was an attempt to save her from his flirtation Hermione was not sure. It was too early in the game and Lady Black had the floor to maneuver it whichever way that she wanted. 

Oh, Hermione would give her credit, she was a brilliant Slytherin that lived up to her house's attributes perfectly. 

“I am certain that if he were still alive he would have loved Tomas.” Hermione put down another one of her cards. “He was very excited about the possibility of having a son.” 

“I am sorry then for your loss.” Irma held her thin hand to her chest as if to say that it greatly wounded her to hear such news. Which did not have an effect on Hermione who saw through it but it did have an effect on Larus who looked deeply sorry for it.

“That is truly terrible to have lost someone so close to you.” He offered. “How old is your son if you do not mind me asking.”

Hermione could not help but be grateful for his slight kindness as it did save her for a moment from the hostess. “He will be a year on the 31st.” 

“It truly then is a tragedy that he will know not his father from anything but memory,” Larus noted. “My father died of Dragon Pox when I was little. I do not have many memories of him, but my mother tells me that he was a remarkable man.” 

“I am sorry for your loss also.” Hermione made a daring move and rested her hand on his. 

“Yes truly.” Lady Black interrupted. “Granger is not a common Wizard name is it?” 

So the cards had been fully laid down now. She was testing her blood status and that of her ‘child’. 

“Not here, no.” Hermione agreed, “But I am from America. New York specifically.” 

“Amazing that you do not even have an accent.” Lady Black tried to counter that. 

“It is very kind of you to say as much. My grandmother was quite happy to have been born in the UK and I tried to copy her in all that I did.” Hermione smiled with quite a bit of effort. 

“So what made you move back this way?” Lucas asked the question that Hermione was expecting of Irma. 

“Yes pray tell us why a single woman would leave her home country to another that she has no family in?” 

“My husband was killed in quite a disagreement.” Hermione didn't even have to fake being uncomfortable. “He died in front of me, as you could imagine that had quite the impact on me and my willingness to stay in the area. Please excuse me.” 

She needed air suddenly, thinking about Ron and that night was not on her agenda for the evening. She felt a very hot coil of anger at “Lady” Black for bringing Ron into this. She should have seen it looping that way, but she had not intended for the conversation to get so out of hand like that. She headed out onto the balcony. It was charmed to be warmer, but Hermione would have done a lot better if it was colder. Perhaps that would have shocked her into being able to make sense of what to do again. But no it was warm and she was far too warm. 

She leaned against the banister where the hint of the warming spell ended. She took in deep breaths. She could picture his face contorting, him screaming for them not to hurt her. He in his dying breath had still been trying to save her. They had left her there to bleed out, and she was still unsure how she had managed to pull through, but she had in desperation tried to get to him before she lost consciousness. 

She still dreamed of it. 

She still thought of him daily. Ron was in everything that she did from the time that she got up in the morning and dressed, to the way that she drank tea alone at lunch, to the way in which she wished that Tom was her Rose. That he was really her son, he was in many ways, but she wished that he was given to her by her love of her husband. 

The pain of it all was near inescapable. 

She did not cry because that would have only added to the humiliation. She had let the vile woman burrow under her skin. She held onto her locket, tightly as if that could give her the littlest shred of comfort. Hermione had not expected Larus to come after her, but then he was a Gryffindor through and through. He could not let a damsel be left in distress. 

“It was unfair of her to keep bringing up your family like that,” Larus spoke softly. “It gives us Purebloods a bad name the ones that are so obsessed with it that they let it invade every aspect of their lives.”

Hermione shook her head. “I expected her to try something, however, I did not expect it to be so cruel.” 

“Regardless it was in poor taste of her, she knows that you are one of the great people that are helping to keep the hospital open. Her moves tonight were very counterproductive to her husband’s. He hopes to eventually bring you on full time, and only supply for his companies and hospitals once you get big enough.” 

“He does keep mentioning it.” Hermione smiled largely, “perhaps I will eventually take him up on it. But not till Tomas is a bit older. I want to enjoy when he is little.”

“They start asking the hard things when they get older.” Larus leaned against the banister. “My nephew never stops asking me about the most random and complex things.” 

“I am sure Tomas will be no different.” Hermione turned to look at him. “He does seem to have a good handle on gravity currently.”

Larus actually laughed at that. “Toss his things on the floor does he?” 

“All the time.” Hermione shook her head. “Whimsy is constantly trying to clean up after him. She has taken to just holding the small dustpan when we are having dinner as to instantly step in the second that it hits the floor.” 

“A dog could be helpful in that regard,” Larus said wistfully. “Dogs are great protective animals and it's good to introduce allergens early on.” 

“I am thinking about getting a cat,” Hermione admitted. “I had one growing up and miss him terribly.” 

Larus and her talked for most of the evening until he introduced her to a few of the other healers. All of them were seemingly charmed to meet her, and she suspected it was mostly because she was making their jobs a tad easier, but also because they wanted to know her trade secrets. The rest of the evening went alright. Lord Black did eventually reach her, the poor man looked like he was really socialized out, but he did make an effort to talk with her some business and to encourage a friend of his to consider buying some of her potions that wouldn’t take as long to brew. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione popped back home around Midnight, it was a lot more graceful than the actual Cinderella story. She had not left anything behind but a few business cards and had left having yes danced with one Larus that could be considered she supposed to most as a prince charming, but to her seemed like he would be a decent enough friend to have. She had also left with his address as he was very interested in her owling him and they could talk about medical practices. She had admitted to knowing a bit about healing Magic and that man had latched onto that like a Ravenclaw would the last bit of knowledge before an essay. 

Whimsy had waited up for her, she sat in the living room on one of the larger chairs, she was sound asleep. Her loud snoring breaths were impossible to miss, and so before she headed up the stairs to check on Tom, she pulled a blanket onto her little sleeping form. 

Tom was sound asleep when she entered her room, and she did her best to be quiet in her undressing as not to wake him. 

She then settled down into a very tired and dreamless sleep.

~/*\~ 

Yule passed with a nice simple meal and telling of stories. Hermione read Tom a couple of Christmas themed books and sung with him a few off-key carols. It was not too much of an enjoyable day for her. She missed her parents, her friends, and the rest of her family that she was related to because of Ron. Christmas was such a holiday that it was just impossible not to wish to be with them. She would have gotten another ugly but comfy sweater from Molly, and she would have had fun making cookies with Ginny in the kitchen. Harry would have been dressed as Santa and running around the house with a squealing Teddy. 

She did her very best not to ruin the day for Whimsy though, that was very happy to have received another small thing for her room and was having the best time of her life trying to imagine a Santa ‘Claws’ that would give good children presents. Hermione felt a little bad for not considering putting anything under the small tree that she had set up for the elf. 

Tom’s birthday was something that she was more happy to celebrate. She did not think that she would be so happy to give him a few new toys or to sing words about him living to be 154. She just loved the way that he did his damndest to open the presents that she placed before him. He was a bit more happy with what was inside them, just as he had been on Christmas. But because she was not as burdened by her sadness, she was just really now able to appreciate his antics.

~/*\~

Time flew by and the next thing that Hermione knew was Tom was running around the house. He was quite quick and always looking for her. If she went out of the room for a second, Tom would rush after her, dragging Mr. Fluffy with him. His clingy behavior was odd to her, but not groundbreaking. Tom did not like when she left when he was a newborn so it only meant that now that he had the ability to chase after her that he would. 

It was almost like he was scared that she would leave. She didn’t know if that was really the case, but the way that he would toddle after her, no matter if it was for the bathroom where she would shut the door and talk to him from the other side, made her feel like he was. 

He particularly liked it when he was in close proximity to her. He didn’t need physical contact, it seemed only the presence. He would play alongside her if she was doing paperwork and order forms, and he would climb up to be next to her if she sat on the sofa reading something. He almost would pretend to be reading it too. 

He was two years old and he was a quiet boy. He did not talk much, just watched everything that was happening around their home. He was very observant too, he had great hearing and he more often than not would turn to the sound before there was a real reaction on his face to it. She supposed that many people would have found it creepy, but then Hermione was just used to Tom and she could not really find him creepy if she tried. 

She didn’t know why he went very quiet but he had. The only real-time he would talk was when he was desperate for her to pay attention to him. Which seemed more often than not at night, when she would try to put him to bed. 

Putting Tom to bed was a chore and a half. He wanted books read to him, he wanted songs, and if he was not completely out when she went to turn out the light he would get right out again. 

He did not want to sleep in his own room. He would get up in the middle of the night and would lay on the floor by her bed if she didn’t pick him up off of it. 

He didn’t just want anyone's attention though he seemed unhappy with Whimsy when she would stop what she was doing to play with him in the off chance that Hermione had grown tired and needed a break or if she had to go run errands. 

He liked the attention up until the point that he didn’t. 

Hermione had taken to thinking of Tom as a cat. He wanted attention but only on his terms and those terms were Mom and no one else. It was like a light switch at times he wanted nothing but to be around her, and then there were times that he just wanted to be alone, going as far as to hide in the oddest places. 

He was strange and nothing that she really could find in her baby books really explained his behavior, but she still loved him. And she knew that in his own way that Tom must have loved her too. Because he would smile at her rare smiles, and he would cling to her when he seemed happy about something. 

He would draw her pictures of the birds he saw in the yard and he would drag her out to the field around their home so that he could play in the mud. 

~/*\~ 

When Tom was three the never-ending questions came. He wanted to know everything and anything. Hermione was surprised that the child had gone from near-silent to nonstop talking. It might have had to do with the fact that he could understand bits and pieces that came from the Muggle and Wizard radios that Hermione would switch between. Or it had to do with the fact that now that he was a tad bit bigger, she took him on some of her errands. 

He would be silent when he was watching the other people of the Muggle town near their home interact, but the second that they got home or were away from the people around them. Tom would spring whatever question came to his mind.

Mostly he wanted to understand why the other people did not make things float like she did, or why there was no one that looked like Whimsy there.

She would have told him to look the answers up himself but that would have meant that Tom knew how to read, and he did not know how to read. He could recognize a few letters and numbers but that was about it and he would stare at the children's books that she had, really hard as if that would give him the secrets to the universe. 

~/*\~ 

Things were good on the potions end of the world. She had successfully made her way into some pretty big hospitals. It required extra brewing time to complete her orders, but Hermione was okay with that. She made sure that she set up her potions in the morning hours and she would hang around Tom for the rest of the morning and then would spend a couple of hours of the afternoon finishing up the potions that she could and then would eat dinner with Tom. 

He was not allowed in the potions room and he did not like that he was separated from her for a few hours. Hermione really needed to get him set up with some playdates or something because she was sure that if he had some other human contact besides her that it would help him. It certainly would help with his socialization skills. 

Tom probably won’t like it. She had noticed his self imposed quietness when they were in town. She also noted the way in which he would sit quietly for hours in front of the radio drawing things. 

None of them were too horrible but she did find that after seeing a dead bird Tom would draw it. He was almost fixated on it. She had when she found him poking it buried it. She had tried to explain to him death but the little boy did not seem to understand it. He didn’t seem bothered at all by it. It just interested him.

It was the start of her noticing that he was not all that kind to the birds after that. He threw rocks when he didn’t think she was looking at him. He didn’t seem to care that he could hurt them. 

And Hermione felt for the first time a little helpless when it came to trying to teach him things. His off behavior towards certain things and people made her think that there was something indeed wrong with him that in the original time frame had only been heightened by the orphanage.


	6. Part Vl

Tom found a cat on the property, she was not sure where it had come from, but it had been hurt by some sort of animal. There was a bite mark that could have been from another cat and a few scratches. Tom did not understand the noises that it was making and had dragged her to the place it was hiding. That place was the shed and the cat had managed to put itself in the corner and she had little doubt that Tom had shut the door on it to go and get her. There were a few droplets of blood that were on the cement floor. She saw the blood before she saw the cats large yellow eyes.

The cat was hissing as it was cornered and its mangy fur was puffed up. Those big eyes were fearful and its ears were pinned back against their head. She took a swipe at Tom who used his stick that he had been playing with to block it. He raised it as if he was going to hit the thing before she stopped him. Gripping him gently by the shoulders.

“She’s hurt.” Hermione explained, “that is why she is making that sound and is trying to keep us away from her.” 

Hurting and pain from other living things was very very hard for Tom to understand. He did not go out of his way to cause people or things harm it just happened. He did not understand that pouring hot water on a plant would kill it, nor did he understand that it hurt birds to throw rocks at them. He had lied to Hermione about taking things from her room without asking, and he had lied about trying to take things from the Muggle grocery store. He knew that it had hurt her feelings, but it was very hard for him to understand that she could be hurt or affected by his actions. Just like it was hard for him to feel sorry for something that did not really directly affect him.

It had taken him falling off the tire swing for him to really understand what pain was, and why other people or living things would not want to feel it. He still had issues with impulsive acting on whatever it was that was in his own best interest and would only apologize when explained to about what he had done was wrong and if he felt that someone would be upset with him for doing it.

Empathy was not really something that Tom had unless it was directed by how would you feel if… fill in the blank. She had got him to stop pelting birds by telling him that the birds felt the way he did when he had gotten that scrap falling off the tire swing. And she had got him to stop trying to take things without having her pay for them, by relating it to how he would feel if she was to go into his room and take Mr. Fluffy away from him. 

Tom knew right from wrong, for the most part, he was almost 5, but he did have a hard time picking the correct choices. Impulsiveness and an inability to see consequences made Hermione have to give many a time out and lectures. But while he might have been more behaved she did not truly know if he was capable of being completely sorry for his actions or if he was just sorry that he had been caught and thus his actions could have a negative effect on him because someone would notably be upset with him. 

Tom blinked, lowering the stick. “But if she is hurt then why is she trying to hurt me?” 

“Because she is scared.” Hermine said softly. “When animals or people are scared sometimes they do things that seem silly in order to not get hurt more.”

If that was not the understatement of the century. Hermione had seen a lot of horrible things that people did because fear had driven them to do it. 

Tom was still as if trying to process this. 

He then tilted his head and his black hair fell a bit into his eyes as he did so. “But why is she hurt and why does she have to be mean I didn’t do anything to her.” Tom protested.

He seemed very deeply upset that the cat did not like him and that it would want to be mean to him even if he had done nothing wrong. He wanted to be liked. Hermione could tell that by the way that he would smile oh so sweetly at the neighbors and shopkeepers when they would make their way around town. It made a few of them let him try sweets or cuts of lunch meat for free. 

“Someone did though and she is worried that we’re going to be like that to her.” Hermione could see some injuries around the cat's tail and ear that didn’t seem to have come from an animal. 

Tom made a face at that. 

Hermione was relieved to find that perhaps Tom was capable of compassion. He seemed really bothered by the way that it was bleeding and his eyes would stray from her to the cat, with a pale face that was expressing a bit of discomfort. Not much, because she knew how to read him pretty well but enough. 

“I won’t be like that.” Tom said definitely. “I won’t hurt her.”

It really warmed her heart to hear that, because Tom was a bit angry and she could easily tell by that anger about how it was unfair that the cat was judging him that he did want to help her. That it was not an act that he really would not hurt her. 

“She doesn’t know that though.” Hermione smiled slightly at him. 

“I won’t hurt you,'' He said to the cat, bending down as if to get onto her level. “I won’t. I will chase off whatever hurt you. I am very good at fighting.”

Of that she was not sure of, in this timeline, she had never seen Tom go at anyone but she was not so sure that she wanted to either. The kids around their neighborhood were not exactly mean to Tom but they were older and did not seem interested in spending any time with him when he did come in contact with them. It was only fair because Tom did not want anything to do with them either and had fake cried when a mother had offered that he come have a playdate with her son some time, saying that he had not felt well and wanted to go home. Hermione had noted that the second that they were home he seemed fine. And pointed out as much to him. 

The cat hissed again. 

And Tom looked back helplessly at Hermione. 

She raised her wand, and cast softly a sleeping spell and the cat fell asleep. Tom looked wide-eyed at her. 

“Is it dead?” His eyes were so wide and so unsure...

“No. Just asleep so that we can tend to the wounds. Tom, please get the box over there.” 

He rushed over to the corner and dumped out some of the gardening tools, he shook the box to make sure that every single one was out and clattered to the floor. Not exactly what she had been hoping for but she supposed that if she wanted a different result that she should have given better directions. 

He shoved the box at her as Hermione took off her light fall jacket and tucked it into the box she then lifted the black cat into the box gently minding its badly hurt back leg. 

“Now what?” Tom asked a bit impatiently, shifting his weight back and forward as he looked at the cat that was sleeping peacefully. 

“We take her inside and treat her in the lab.” Hermione lifted the box and Tom rushed to get the shed door. And then waited as he followed her back towards the house. He was underfoot the whole time asking a hundred questions a minute.

If we treat her will she be okay?

“I think so.” had barely made it out of her mouth before Tom was rambling again. He was very excited about the whole thing. 

“Is she going to stay with us? If so where is she going to live? We don't have a cat room?” He walked quickly beside her and yanked the back door open. 

“I suppose that she would stay in the kitchen until she gets used to the house.” Hermione thought it over quickly, there was not much mess that the cat could make with her bad leg while she healed in there. 

“So we’re keeping her? Does that mean that she needs a name? I think that Paws is a good name. That’s the name of the cat from the book. Though he was a boy and well she is a girl, you said and she is not missing a hat. What about ebony that was a color that was like black right, she is ebony.” Tom was speaking so fast that it was hard to understand him, as he did have trouble in pronouncing things and when he did get this worked up there was not a real way to get him to stop to even remember to take breaths. 

“Why don’t we try to fix her leg before anything becomes permanent, she does not seem to be a magical cat, so I am not going to attempt healing spells on her. Magic like that is not good to use on non-magical creatures. Let that be something you take note of Tom.” Hermione took the cat to her potions room.

Tom nodded from his place by the door to the basement. 

“Tom you can come down.” Hermione sighed, knowing that he would be fidgeting there the whole time and was not going to miss the opportunity to try to teach him something. He knew that he was not normally allowed down there and she was grateful that he was taking the rule to heart. 

“Why can’t we use magic on her?” Tom asked. 

“When magic is used let's say on muggles, for instance, they can get sick or the spell depending on the power behind it can cause lasting damage, even if the intent was to heal. We do not want to cause her any more damage do we?” She put the box on the workbench.

In small doses and only in very severe circumstances using magic or potions on a Muggle besides the common memory charm could have long term effects. Things like poor health and madness were common symptoms of overexposure. Tom’s real mother may have paused in her administration due to worry about this or because she really had thought that it had been long enough. Hermione wouldn’t claim to know her thought process. 

“No.” Tom peered into the box. “I don’t like the sounds that she was making, and I don’t want her to make them again.”

Hermione watched him carefully, putting down the bandages and a few of her antiseptics. “I did not like her cries either.”

“She was crying?” Tom tilted his head. He then gently pet her head frowning a tad.

“Animals can’t cry like we do.” She explained. “That was why she was making that loud strangled noise.” 

“Like when Whimsy stubs her foot?” Tom stopped petting the cat. He looked at her innocently as he was capable of.

She took a deep breath so that she would not laugh. “Yes.” 

Tom nodded to himself. “Why is she so thin?” 

He moved his hand out of the way so that Hermione could wipe at the damaged areas. 

“She has not been fed in a while, or was unable to catch anything.” Hermione didn’t sugar coat it. “She is going to take a lot of work to get to trust people again. The person that owned her was not kind.” 

“I bet it was John.” Tom frowned deeply. 

Hermione shifted her gaze from the cat so she could study him fully. “Why do you think it was him?”

She didn’t think that it was John but saying that she did not believe Tom would only upset him and since Tom did a lot of observing people, trying to figure them out like little puzzles, he might know something that she didn’t. 

“He doesn’t like cats,” Tom said pointedly as if that made the accusation true. 

“There are a lot of people that are not fond of cats for many different reasons, but that doesn’t mean that they have hurt them.” 

“He said his dad drowned a bag full of kittens.” Tom folded his arms. “I heard him telling the other boys when they thought I wasn’t listening.” 

Hermione paused in her movements. “That was very cruel of him to do.” She decided to say tactfully as she knew that some families did that because they could not afford all the cats or did not want them. She did not agree with it, but she knew why it was done.

Tom resumed petting the cat that was slowly waking up. She stretched and tried to get up, letting out a few hisses.

Tom withdrew his hand. “Did I hurt her?” He tilted his head looking to her for guidance. 

“I don’t think so, she just is a bit worried.” Hermione finished up the bandages. 

“Don’t be worried.” Tom told the cat sort of harshly. “We’re nice and won't hurt you.” 

The cat just watched Tom with large wide, frightened eyes. 

~/*\~ 

It would be a few weeks before Paws named after Tom’s favorite book cat was able to move around. The cat was thin and gobbled up whatever was placed in front of her. She was aggressive when it came to being fed but she did like Tom as he was the one to feed her, and kept a safe distance only slowly inching his way forward to petting her. 

Tom was very kind to the cat, but Hermione had a feeling it was because he considered her to be his cat. Tom liked things that were his, he took care of his things. He would get upset if they were out of place or if someone that was not Hermione was the one that was touching them. 

Paws only liked Tom. She did not hate Hermione but would be ever so watchful if she was in the room. It made Hermione think that it was adults or people that were much bigger than her that the cat feared.

Regardless of it all Paws became a part of the family, and Tom was learning responsibility by watching her. He fed her, brushed her, and made sure to play with her and Hermione held hopes that if Tom could care for animals that it would transfer over to people.

~/*\~ 

Hermione had to go on a small business trip. It involved negotiating bulk orders of newts. She needed to go, and Tom was very upset that she had to leave. When she announced the trip and explained that she could not take him with her, he had decided not to talk to her for the rest of the day. He then spent the next day begging her not to go and being completely underfoot. He even threatened to hide her suitcase at one point.

Hermione was feeling quite put out by his behavior and she told him as much. 

Tom had turned on the waterworks at that and she had to take steady breaths so as not to blow up on him. He was probably really worried about her leaving, she did not doubt that. But she also knew that he was being a bit manipulative with the tactic too because he knew that she hated seeing him cry. 

It broke her heart the day of the trip when he had hugged her really hard and made her promise to come back, having finally accepted that she had to go. It was only going to be for two days. She was sure that he would be fine.

~/*\~

Tom did not like that his mother had left. 

Not at all. 

Mothers should not leave their kids alone, not with elves that were older and sometimes forgetful. Not that he didn’t really like Whimsy. Whimsy let him do things that his mother wouldn’t. Like Whimsy let him have an extra cookie at lunch or would not get upset with him if he went outside for hours without exactly telling her where he was going. Whimsy was easy to get to give him things like new crayons and would let him stay up later if he promised to just be reading. 

He liked her alright. But his mother was the sole person that Tom could say that he cared for. She was kind and she was always smiling at him. 

She was not like other adults. 

Other adults treated him differently so did the children. 

Tom knew that most of the Muggle people thought his family to be odd. But that was because they were stupid, they did not know about magic and if they did, they would be scared. His mother had explained to him that Wizards and Witches had gone into hiding because there had been the bad sort of Muggles that had hunted them. It was why she did not do magic outside of their home. 

She told him that when he was older she would take him to the Wizard towns that she had to go to for work. But now that she had to go she did not take him with her. He had begged and he had gotten mad. But his mother had not changed her mind and as such he had to stay in the cottage with Whimsy and Paws. 

Tom at least now could wander around further from the house with Paws. she would follow him anywhere. She was a good friend. Tom did not need anymore. Even if his mother said that he did.

No, he did not. 

He did not like the people that lived by them and he was sure that they did not like him either. 

If they were not captivated by his forced smiles, they thought that he was creepy. John called him that often as he hid behind the shelves a few rows over from where they were shopping. He didn’t think that he could hear him. But Tom knew. He knew that John was a bad little boy that liked to call people names, trip them, and fancied himself a prince. Tom thought him to be king of the Stupid. John’s father owned the shop and he took as much fruit as he wanted from the deep barrels. He talked about drowning cats by the river and the time that he had shot a dog with his toy gun that fired off rubber bands. He bragged about that sort of thing. Tom hoped that one of the animals that he was mean to bit him or that John would try and mess with him and he could do something nasty to him to teach him a lesson. His mother would not like it if he hurt John, but if John tried to hurt him first that Tom would have an excuse. 

Tom would have really liked to see him bleed or cry. He would have deserved it for making animals cry. 

Still no matter how Tom stayed away when they were at the town he always could hear a bit of what the other people were saying. If his mother heard she did not comment on it. Some of them really did not like that they didn’t go to church or that his mother did not want to send him to Sunday church school. Tom had no idea what that entitled but he knew that there was a building dedicated to it, and all of the shops were closed when it was Sunday. He had wanted to go to town for more practice books for handwriting and he had to wait till Monday. 

Tom stuck close by their home as his mother had shielded it from things that were possibly dangerous and having snuck into the library and found a book full of scary-looking monster things. Tom did not stray too far from it so if he had to he could run at top speed back behind the enchantments. He could not see them, but he could feel them. They made the hair on his arms stand up and he could almost feel a slight hum to them. His mother had not been able to feel it. She though did praise him that if he could feel them, that meant that he did have magic.

Tom wanted his magic to work for him. He wondered what his first accident would be. His mother said that she had gotten upset and the window had cracked. Whimsy had said that the witch’s children that she had worked for before had made things float. 

He glanced at the sand hourglass he didn’t have too much longer to wait till his mother came back. The enchanted glass showed about ¼ the way full. 

He smiled to himself swaying his legs as he scribbled in his handwriting notebook. He liked to try and write his name in the margins. Quills were hard and his hands were covered in ink. But Tom did not mind. He was proud of his hard work. 

Paws was on the table cleaning herself. Tom found it a bit gross when she would lick at her lower half.

He frowned at her. 

She made her way closer to him thinking that he wanted her company. She walked right onto his workbook and the wet ink. 

He had worked so hard on writing his name. He glared at her and then put the quill down as to try to get her off of his lesson. He pushed at her a bit but she thought that he wanted to play and knocked the ink well over and it went everywhere.

It was on his clothes, the table, the floor, in her fur and his notebook. 

His notebook was completely black. 

All of his hard work...

He felt so angry that he just couldn’t help but scream. 

“You stupid cat!” Tom yelled at her and as he grabbed at her, but didn’t even really touch her and she went flying. She just went flying and hit the cabinet. She did not move and there was a little bit of blood coming out of her head. 

“Paws…” He moved closer to her, she was whining and he hated that sound. He wished that she would stop. He held his head as black ink dripped down his arms and onto the floor. For the first time in a while, Tom just started to cry, not knowing what to do. 

~/*\~

When Hermione came home from a short trip things were not good. Whimsy looked a bit shaken up when she had opened the back door to their home. She was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a large mug of tea. Her big eyes had marks under them and she looked at Hermione with what could only be described as a relief. 

“There was an incident with young master Tomas.” She said shakily. 

“Is he alright?” Hermione instantly started to panic thinking about what he could have gotten himself into. 

She never should have left. 

Did he manage to get the lock off the potions storage closet? 

There was so much he could get hurt by even a trip towards the woods unsupervised could have that effect. 

“No mistress I think that Tomas is fine. It’s the cat that I am worried about.” 

She felt her blood freeze. What had Tom done? She thought that he was over throwing stones at birds. He liked Paws a lot…

There was no way that he would hurt her….

Or would he?

“The cat?” Hermione's eyes widened. “Paws?” 

The elf nodded her head. “Accidental magic it was. I could feel magic happen it was a dark magic, he was very upset. The cat she was lying on the floor she was and bleeding. He will not eat. Whimsy does not know what to do.” 

Hermione took a deep breath setting down her bag onto the kitchen floor. She was very tired from her trip, but the thought of what had happened without her was one that cut her to her very core. 

“Whimsy, is Paws still alive?” She was really afraid to ask at this point.

“Yes, Whimsy was able to heal her. She knows that can be bad, but she did not want to see the cat die. Master Tomas would be hurt more by it. The cat is in Whimsy’s room Mrs. and doing much better.” 

“I will try to talk to him.” Hermione rose from her seat. 

She found the door to Tom’s room locked. 

“Tom, open the door for me please.” Hermione tapped on it.

There was no sound from the other side but the creak of a floorboard. 

“Tom, I am not mad at you, what happened must have been terrible. I want to talk to you about it.” 

There was still nothing and Hermione put her head against the door. 

“Tom please.” She said weakly because she was feeling something very painful in her chest, by him not responding. And she felt even worse for leaving him alone to face this for what must have been hours. 

There was the sound of a soft cry and she took in a deep breath. “I am coming in.” 

She waved her hand and the door opened. Tom was not visible when she first stepped into the room. So she inched her way forward following the sound of loud breathing and there hiding behind the bed in the cervice that was between it and the wall sat Tom. He was covered in dry ink and his eyes were red from crying and perhaps irritation as it seemed he had been scrubbing at his face when the ink had still been fresh and he was still crying. He was trembling and holding onto a very dirty Mr. Fluffy that’s nice brown fur now had splashes of blackish-purple that took the shape of fingerprints. 

He was clutching the rabbit close to his chest as if that was the best way for him to seek comfort. There was snot that was dripping from his nose as he gave a pathetic sounding sniffle that really broke her heart. He looked at her with those big brown eyes that he always looked at her with. One’s that when he was a baby had always made her want to dry his tears and hold him closer there was no difference now.

She sat down on the floor next to him. Slowly pulling him from his protective hunched in position and into a very tight hug. It had not been what she had planned on doing, but that is what she did. Tom was still in her lap before he dropped the Rabbit and clung onto her sobbing even louder than before. He started coughing hard by the action but he did not let go he held onto her shoulders and she patted his back feeling each little choked breath rattle his little body and feeling every little tremble. 

“It’s okay Tom.” She held him tighter. “It’s okay.” 

“I didn't mean to ....” He choked out. “I was just mad…and… and she flew….” he could not finish whatever it was that he wanted to say. He just started coughing and rubbing his face into her coat.

“I still love you. It’s okay.” She held onto his head, rubbing soft circles. 

It took him another couple of minutes to calm down into just sniffling. And she was then able to pull him away enough so that she could look at him and he could look at her. 

“Can you tell me what happened?” She asked softly making sure that she did so delicately.

Tom was quiet for a very long time. He held onto her arm that was draped around him and moved closer so that his head was against her chest. 

“I was working on my handwriting. I was doing good, you would have liked it and then Paws…” he trailed off. 

“And then Paws did what?” Hermione coxed. 

“She knocked over the ink.” Tom rubbed his shorts with his hands that might have been sweaty. “I got mad. I worked so hard and she ruined it. just ruined all of it. I went to shove her way and I didn’t even touch her and she went flying.” and as the story picked up, so did Tom he quickly started talking in that manic way of his that was hard to understand. “She hit the cabinets. She started bleeding. I know that's bad. She was hurt. I could tell because she was crying. She made that sound I hate. I didn’t want her to make that sound. I wanted her to stop, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want her to hurt. I was just mad.”

He finished and started rubbing his irritated eyes again. 

“Paws is going to be okay.” Hermione rubbed his back. “What happened was you had strong feelings and your magic reacted.”

Tom did not react to that. He did not seem happy at all that he had magic, even though if something had broken or floated a few days ago, he would have been ecstatic. He looked at his hands and then at her. 

“Am I dangerous?” He asked in that way that only a little kid could ask, that heartbroken, fearful way that hid a great deal of emotions. He was fragile and looking at her, whatever she told him at that moment he would believe. 

He was in another timeline that very word. He had killed hundreds, enjoyed torturing them. He had been ever sense of the word and even in this timeline, he could become that way. It would be very easy for Tom to give in to his emotions, his impulses, and become something that was to be feared. But she was not looking at the Dark Lord. She was looking at a small little boy that had done something that he did not mean to. She knew that. And this little boy was her son. Her newfound family and her world. 

“You are not more dangerous than I am.” She pulled him in very tight. “Witches and Wizards have immense power that feeds off of our emotions. We can easily cause harm if we want to. But no Tom you are not dangerous unless you choose to be. And I know that you didn’t want to hurt Paws. I know that you do not want to hurt others. You will become a great Wizard of that I am sure, once you learn how to handle your magic.” 

He started to cry again. “But… But what if…”

“Shhhh.” Hermione gently dabbed at his face with her handkerchief. He took it from her to better rub at his face and even blew his nose into it. 

“I will help to teach you magic, and even if you do accidental magic that breaks things or injures others. I will still love you. I will always love you and I will keep helping you until you can control it.”

He grabbed onto her again tightly, almost crushingly. “Ma…” 

She took in deep breaths, holding again onto him as if it was the night that she had woken up from a nightmare and she feared losing him. She feared it more than perhaps anything at this point. She would not let him give into that fear that he was a monster or could become one, because if he thought that then perhaps he would be lost. She would help him, everything else be damned. She felt a slight tear form in the corner of her eye. Godric help her, she would try her best to help teach him to control his anger and his magic.


	7. Part Vll

Hermione helped Tom get all the ink off. He was rather quiet during the task. The stains were a bit too much though and they would probably take a few days in which to fade. She could tell that his silence was from the pure exhaustion that had taken over him. It was like all that fear had just dissipated and left a far more calm and tired very tired child. 

“I think that is as good as we are going to get it.” Hermione sighed. “The rest are going to have to fade on their own.”

He did not thank her but rubbed again at his eyes that were still pretty red. She would have to put a little salve by them to help with the irritations. 

“Did you want to eat something?” She helped him out of the deeper tub and started to dry his hair. There were even black marks from the ink on the back of his neck. She could have tried a fading charm, but she didn’t really think that after a particularly troubling bit of magic that Tom would have liked to have a wand pointed at him. “Tom?”

“No.” He gripped the towel. He was not making eye contact. His face was a little red as if he was deeply embarrassed that she had to help him. Tom was such an independent child. 

“Do you want to go to bed. I know that rest could be helpful.” She sighed. She really wanted him to try to eat something, but she was not going to force him. She knew that if things were bothering her she sometimes would skip meals too. Funny that being a parent made one really want to ease whatever it was their kid was going through regardless if it would not be the child's wish to do so. It was hard to feel helpless when it came to making him feel better. 

He looked over at his rabbit and Hermione felt that he was upset about it being ruined but was too exhausted to really form real emotions from it. She shook her head taking a deep breath. 

“Tom, why don’t you change for bed and I will see what I can do about Fluffy okay?” 

He nodded and made his way towards his room again and she picked up her old rabbit. She could feel the crusty stains that were on it, and the way that the fur had hardened in some places into blackened tips. He was well-loved. Even when she was a little girl, the bunny’s' eyes had scratches on them, but now they were very noticeable. It was no fault to Tom really. He dragged it everywhere before he could even walk, and now it might not have left his room, but she knew that he slept with it close. 

She had promised to help him. She didn't even know if she could. There was something very dark in Tom that had the ability to surface. It did not make him evil, but it certainly could be dangerous. She had to find a way to curb his anger and train him to be productive when built up magic decided that it wanted to lash out. 

The question was how.  
She tried a few cleaning spells, that Ink was not coming out no matter the spells she knew. 

Great...

She rubbed gently the dish soap into the soft fur. She sighed as she put the rabbit under the water of the sink gently scrubbing. She needed something to keep her hands busy. 

He seemed scared of what he could do. She had never seen him really fearful of anything but her leaving for little bits of time. She did not know if it was because he thought she like his father would disappear or if it was just a deep down insecurity that never really went away. She needed to make sure that he didn’t just feel fear when it came to his magic. It was the last thing that she needed. A person capable of such great power deciding to try to hold it back. She was pretty sure that was how obscurus were made.

Her hands shook a little at the thought and she watched the ink swirl as it went down the drain, the water became black. 

She paused in her movements, pulling the rabbit out to get a good look at it, before casting a few drying charms and dying charms trying to get it to become brown again. It was as good as she was going to get it. In the middle of trying one last drying spell, she caught Tom in the hallway. He was in a pair of shorts and a baggy shirt he was still rubbing at his eyes. 

“Tom.” She beckoned him forward and pointed to the closed toilet seat. “Sit there and let's see if we can get the itching under control.”

He sat slowly and she passed him the rabbit. “I think he is about as clean as I can get him.”

Tom held it close as she went under the sink for some of her salves. He was quiet when she searched and she really wished that he would talk because it felt a bit awkward to be bending down and looking through the cabinet. 

“This might feel a little cold, that means it’s working.” She put some on her finger and rubbed a little around his eyes. He flinched a little when it did get pretty close, but that was all. 

“Thank you…” She almost did not hear it. 

She smiled at him and rubbed his head, feeling his still-damp hair. “You’re welcome.” 

She got up to change, she didn’t have the energy to take a bath herself. She felt very very drained. She put her pajamas on and then just collapsed onto the bed. She heard her door creak not even a minute later. 

Tom made his way onto the bed, she could feel him crawl closer long before she opened her eyes. She still hugged her pillow but opened her arm and allowed him to shift himself closer. He did not say anything but she could hear him softly sighing as if he was very happy to be closer to her. She pulled him in so that her arm would not go numb later in the night. It had been a long time since he did this. She almost missed it. 

~/*\~

A dark figure loomed in the corner of a destroyed courtyard. He was grinning and all his yellowing teeth showed. A very large snake was trailing behind him, moving amongst the rubble. Near her there was a young 3rd or fourth year that she did not know the name of. His eyes were wide and looking up at the sky. 

There was the sound of loud crying, and there were still screams that were happening around her. It all was a blur of motion and she was trying to block yet another unfriendly spell. He was coming for Harry. He was coming to try to kill him again. But this time, he did hit the curse right in front of her and Harry went down, the green light extended to Ron that dodged it and the scene morphed to an alleyway. 

Spells were being thrown. The alleyway was blown apart. Her wand was across from her. She could not reach it without heading into direct fire. Someone hit her and she stumbled. She blacked out and when she woke she was in a pool of her own blood and Ron. 

Oh god, Ron. 

He was screaming, thrashing on the ground as he did so as the torture curse was cast again and again. 

Hermione was on the ground. She knew that the second that her eyes had opened, there was a large weight on her head as it pressed harder and harder her into the sidewalk. A strong kick took the wind out of her and her gasps were cut off mid inhale when the strangling curse was cast on her. It was like there was a tight hand around her throat choking her and she could see through her tears, Ron.

Ron somehow, in a near-impossible movement had somehow gotten ahold of his wand and cast a slicing charm. The pressure on her throat lessened and he then was hit with a burning curse that set him aflame. He started burning as if he was deadwood. His bloody face looked at her as if to say that he was truly sorry. He went down to words that she did not hear, as she was barely conscious. 

She was hardly aware of her own screams as they echoed off of the walls around her, but they were nothing. She could not get to him. She could not help him. They left her there bleeding, dying and all she could think was Ron.

Ron… 

She crawled her way over to him. She could feel nothing but agony in her movements. She didn’t know what else to do. She made it to the charred body that was still smoking. His handsome face was gone, melted. And when she looked up she could see a figure at the end of the alley.  
Brown eyes looked into hers, dark black shadows wrapped around the small frame. 

“Ma.” 

She woke with a start, her heart hammering and she kicked something hard that was next to her. She held onto her chest as she took in ragged breaths. 

“Ma...” Tom sounded unsure, she could feel his small hands before she could see his form slightly in the darkness. His eyes were wide and glistening in the dull light from one of her everburning enchanted candles. 

She rubbed at her face. “I am okay Tom, I just had a bad dream.” 

She felt him slump on her, it was not exactly a hug but she figured that it was his best attempt at one. 

“It sounded bad,” Tom said softly.

“It was.” She did not even bother to lie to him, pulling him closer to her. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

He shook his head and she let out a deep sigh of relief. 

“You said Dad’s name,” Tom said after way to a long pause. 

She did not know what to tell him so she was quiet. He knew Ronald only as the father that had died before his birth and before she came to live at the cottage. 

“I sometimes hear you crying,” Tom said softly rubbing his head against her shoulder. “It wakes me up.” 

“Sorry…” She was too dumbfounded to say anything else.

“It’s okay. I just don’t like it when you cry.” He played with fluffy’s ear. “I don’t like when I hear anyone cry. It makes me feel weird.”

“Weird?” She prompted. 

“Yes, a bit yucky inside and also angry, because I just want to make it stop.” 

She held onto his head feeling the black hair that was now soft and smooth. 

“It’s okay crying you know.” She said softly. “I was once told that crying came about because there was such sadness that there was no way to let it all out otherwise. And someone once told me that the sky cries for all the horrible things that happen in the world.” 

“The sky rains,” Tom muttered not at all buying the explanation.

“It does.” She agreed.

She adjusted herself so that she was laying down again. It was too early to be up at this point. 

“Do you dream of Dad and it makes you cry because you miss him?” Tom had wiggled his way into her side and had his head resting in the nook made by her shoulder. She could feel his tiny hands on her side slightly gripping at her. 

“I miss him every day.” She said truthfully. “There is not an hour that goes by that I do not think of him in some way.” 

“What was he like?” Tom asked. 

He didn’t ask much about him before. Hermione had only talked about him a handful of times, and nothing in much detail. If she was honest it was because she was hurt talking about what could have been. 

How to describe him...

“He was so brave.” Hermione smiled a little. “He was hot-headed, a bit like you in that way when he would get frustrated petty easily. But He was always quick to stand up for what he thought was right, and was very vocal about his beliefs. He was prone to being a bit sensitive and immature but I suppose that his immaturity added to his humor.”

Tom yawned but his eyes stayed open. 

“I think that if I was to describe him in one word it would have been family-oriented. He loved me very much and would have loved any child that I could have given him.”

She was not sure about how he would have reacted to Tom, but then Ron’s death was the thing that prompted her to go back in time in the first place. 

“How did he die?” Tom had asked this question before, but Hermione had not answered it. He had been really young and had asked why people seemed to have two parents and he had one. 

“Tom are you sure that you want to know that…” She trailed off.

“It makes you cry.” Tom stubbornly gripped harder on her shirt. 

“Your father died quite terribly.” Hermione looked at the ceiling. “Before you were born there was a war. It was a horrible war.”

“Was it Muggles?” Tom interrupted.  
“They had something to do with it, but it was not them that caused his death. There are wizards in this world Tom that are bad and they act on things that are untrue. Your father and I fought dark wizards and because they feared us one day they attacked. During the attack, your father died protecting me. I sometimes relive the attack.”

“But why were they bad?” Tom asked it was almost kind of cute the way that he asked that like he could not understand why someone would be bad. 

“They hurt a lot of people.” Hermione took in a shaky breath. “There were a lot of broken families because of their actions. They believed that blood is what made a witch and wizard. Anyone that was not of noble blood did not deserve magic or to live.” 

Tom actually shuddered a little at that. “Where are they now?”

“They are long gone, you don’t have to worry about them.” Hermione soothed. “We are safe here.” 

Tom let out a small breath that he had been holding. “Are there other ways to go bad?” 

She had a feeling that this might have to do with their conversation earlier. “Yes, but they will not happen to you.” 

Her grip on him tightened. “Tom your good I know that with all that I am. You don’t have to fear becoming dark and if you start to go down that path I will fight with you against its lure. Just because you accidentally hurt paws does in no way mean that you are bad.” 

She looked deep into those deep brown eyes that were looking at her. “Okay?”

“Okay…” He said softly seeming to believe her. 

“Let’s sleep, tomorrow I am starting to teach you about magic.” Hermione shifted her weight trying to get comfortable with the weight that was on her. 

Tom nodded and she shut her eyes. 

~/*\~

In the morning Hermione got Tom out of bed and they went to see Paws. It was kind of heartbreaking at first how the cat flinched away from Tom’s hand. 

But by some miracle of Merlin, the cat then leaned into it, as if she had forgiven him. And Hermione could not help but wonder right then and there if some of Tom’s magic might have affected her. She knew that he in the memories that she had seen was able to have animals do what he wanted.

Tom did not seem to be forcing Paws into anything, she even started purring at his pets. 

“I’m so happy you’re not mad at me,” Tom whispered. 

And Hermione could not help but think that a friendship really had been foraged between the both of them. Paws was a year old if that and Tom was going to be turning 5 at the end of the month there was a chance that she could in the future be able to go with him to Hogwarts. 

~/*\~ 

“Magic is a supernatural force that can alter the fabric of reality at fundamental levels.” Hermione started, after their visit to Paws turned out for the better and they had breakfast. “Which just means in fancy words that magic often acts as a source of energy, often achieving work on behalf of the person using it.”

Tom nodded. 

“Magic typically comes from within the wizard or witch themself as opposed to, say, from the burning of elements or the summoning of demons. No to say that if you really wanted to summon something or use elements to help with your enchantments you couldn’t.”

Tom stared wide-eyed at that. 

“Right getting off-topic, and for the record never try to summon something that you do not understand.”

“I wouldn’t.” Tom held up a hand as if to promise.

“Anyways because most of all magic comes from inside a witch or wizard there is a distinction between Muggles and us. A Muggle can perform all the motions of a spell, but nothing will happen. One has to be born with the ability to do magic.” 

Tom smiled at that. 

“You have seen me use this a lot.” Hermione held up her want. “Our wands channel our magic so as to make its effects both more precise and more powerful.”

Tom was now looking at her wand as it was something beautiful and truly uncommon. It was rather plain and not even one of Ollivander's. It was the one that she had gotten as a substitute for her old one that was long gone. Belitrixes was upstairs locked in the drawer as a spare and just in case. 

She hesitated. “It is the mark of the very greatest witches and wizards when they are able to produce wandless magic at a very high quality.”

“You do that!” Tom blurted. “I have seen you.”

She smiled. “I can do some spells without my wand, but nothing all that complex.” 

Tom shook his head as if he did not believe that. 

“Anyways, to cast spells usually wizards and witches must do more than simply point their wand and say the magic words. In order for anything to happen we must do the motions, and pronounce the spells correctly, and very clearly. Observe.” 

She swished and flicked her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa" she caused one of the slips of paper on the table to lift off of it. 

Tom watched excitedly. “When do I get a wand?”

“Normally, Witches and Wizards get their wands at the age of 11 and then there is a trace placed on them as a way to keep students from doing magic outside of school.”

Tom deflated at that. 

“Don’t worry for what I have in mind you will not need a wand.” 

Tom perked up again.

“You will be helping me to make potions. While they are magical in nature, it is more about combining the ingredients in the proper order, the way they are added, and the way in which you have prepared your ingredients.”

He looked overjoyed. She had not expected that.

“I get to help you work?” Tom was smiling that really large one that could either mean that he was going to do something incredibly childlike or he was just so happy that it looked rather creepy. He was not one to give more than a little curve to his lips. 

“Yes.”

Tom started fidgeting in his seat, no doubt wanting to get started. 

“Potion making is a noble art. It is difficult and if one is to make mistakes it can have disastrous results. As such I will be teaching you first how to identify plants in my garden, and how to prepare ingredients. Once we have mastered that, I think we will cook together.”

“Cook?” Tom looked very confused.

“Cooking is very similar to potion making and a lot less deadly should something go incorrectly. I wish to teach you patience and persistence. It will not come easily and if your magic flairs you could cause issues.Once you have mastered a few more complex recipes then you can truly help with my work on the brewing end of things.” Hermione explained. 

He kicked his feet a little into the chair not bothering to completely hide his disappointment. 

“Chin up.” Hermione made her way over to him. “You will need to learn about ingredients that we cannot grow here and that means accompanying me to magical towns.” 

Now that the smile was back onto his face Hermione held her hand out to him. “Hold onto me very tightly.” 

He gripped her hand hard enough to possibly bruise, but that was okay she always forgot how strong that he could be. 

In a pop, they were at the entrance to Diagon Alley. 

Tom’s eyes grew horribly wide and he then promptly vomited. She had forgotten that it was horrible the first few times that a person did that. 

“I apologize Tom.” She patted him on the back. 

“Mrs. Granger.” A man paused and looked concerned at Tom. “Merlin is that boy alright.”

“Mr. Clout this is my son Tomas, it is his first time apperating.” 

“Ah well, that explains it.” The man nodded. “It is a pleasure to meet the son of such a great potion master. Your mother is a pleasure to work with. ”

Tom looked up at the man and stared blankly at him. 

“It is kind of you to say, you, I would say are one of the few that I can actually stand working with. Tom, Mr. Clout here orders ingredients for me.” 

Tom looked from her to the man that was chucking a little bit. 

“Well, I do have some of the ingredients for you ready to go. However, I am on lunch.” 

Hermione smiled slightly, “I am sure that your assistant can help us then. Come along Tom.” 

She held her hand out to him and Tom took it.

~/*\~ 

Tom had not expected to feel sick after taking his mother’s hand nor had he thought that he would be sucked somewhere that was completely new and probably hundreds of miles from their home. He had never seen so many buildings, not ones that were so tall. 

The man that apparently was named Clout was loud and Tom could tell that his mother was faking a smile. It was that look that she gave when Paws would make a mess in the house and not in the litterbox. She would tell Tom too kindly to try to make sure that Paws made an attempt to go where she should. Or the time that she had been forced to go to a meeting about ethically collecting pollen from whomping willows flowers. 

She did not like Mr. Clout and it was not till they made it to his shop that Tom learned why. 

“Are my Newts in?” She asked.

“No Mrs. Granger but I do have the bat wings.” The man behind the counter nodded towards the back room. 

“I ordered dragonfly wings not bat wings.” His mother had corrected politely. 

“I see. I’m sorry about that. We do have some dragonfly wings in. I could box those up for you.” 

“Thank you.” His mother sighed greatly before turning to Tom as the man went to the back. “Clout is a nice man but I don’t think he has all the pieces to his wizard’s chest board.” 

Tom nodded and pretended to know what that meant. 

His mother started one of her improved lectures about the many different ingredients. Tom did his best to pay attention but it was hard as there were just so many things that were moving and catching his eyes. Wizarding towns he decided right then and there were far better than that of the Muggle towns. 

As they made their way out with a couple of bags, Tom did his best to hold onto his mother’s hand there were a lot of people around. He did not want to get lost and a few of the people around him were a bit scary looking with their crazy hair and scratched up faces. They looked like they had been in wars or something and when he looked at them they glared at him making him feel highly uncomfortable. There were also creatures that had sharp teeth and were not much shorter than him. They moved around in nice suits and there was someone that was so large that Tom doubted that he would ever be able to bend and fit into some of the store's doors. 

There was so much to see that he felt like his head was always on a swivel and he nearly fell when a store that was selling broomsticks seemed to be letting kids ride them. 

“Were headed to the bookstore.” His mother’s voice was muffled by the noise. She reached down and picked him up so that he would be safe in her arms. He liked the way that he was higher now, even if it meant that he had to be embarrassed that his mother was carrying him. 

They made it to a shop that had many books covering the walls. Tom had never seen so many books in his life. 

“Why are we here?” He asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He wanted to read whatever he could, even if he did not really have the skill to. He could make out a few words he knew that we’re on the near by display. His mother said that he was at a first-grade level, but he didn’t exactly know what that meant. 

“I need to get children’s potion books if I want to be teaching you the basics. If you want you could look in the children's section over there.” She pointed over to the corner. 

He did not want to let go of her even as she put him down. He clung to part of her robe, he was not a coward but he did not want to be separated from her. There were a lot of unknowns here and he knew that some Wizards were bad. 

He shook his head and she let out a deep breath and they made their way to the children's section. Tom tuned out what his mother and the shopkeep were talking about in favor of watching a kid that might have been his age make his way closer to the kid's section. 

He had white hair. Tom had never seen anyone that had white hair and was that young. The boy turned yes it was a boy, they had long hair that made him think that perhaps it was a girl until he noticed the clothes. Yet he did not think that he had ever seen a boy that looked so well… pretty. He could pull off being a girl. 

“Mr. Malfoy.” Another Shopkeep called over to a man that was much the same, way too pale and pretty looking there was no way that it was not the man’s son. 

His mother smiled at the man, who made a nod as a greeting and then his mother was making her way over. 

Tom did not ask for this. 

The other boy must have had the same feeling because as their parents started to catch up on Ministry stuff they both just looked at each other bordly. 

“Well, where are my manners.” The man that was called Malfoy looked down. “This is my son Abraxas.” 

“And this is Tomas.” His mother introduced him. 

Both of them looked expectantly down at them. 

“Hi,” Tom muttered. 

“Greetings.” The white-haired boy offered. 

And since nothing seemed to be gained his mother and the annoying man that had interrupted their shopping decided to say goodbyes that lasted a bit too long.

“It would be good for the both of you to get along as you both most likely will be attending school together.” His mother smiled down at him. “I think that he would be fun for you to hang out with.” 

Tom shrugged hoping that she would drop it and so she did.

“This will be the last stop. I need to get an owl, lord knows that I would like to keep using the cheap post but if the minister thinks he can tax us more on that I’ll just buy my own.” 

And so they ended up in front of the most interesting shops. It was a pet store as far as Tom could tell. There were things though in cages that looked like younger versions of Whimsy and there were things that looked like they were sliced up animals that had been put together wrong. Tom clung closer. 

“Help me pick an owl.” She steered them towards a group of feathery large birds. Tom liked Owls or at least he thought that he did. He had seen some drop off mail and the books that Whimsy and his mother read to him about them were interesting. He picked a brown one and his mother and the shopkeeper started to viciously talk back and forward. 

Tom let go of his mother's robe a few minutes later when it seemed that his mother had reached the point of just haggling over the bird. 70 galleons was apparently absurd. 

He heard a voice calling to him and he followed it until he reached a large tank where there was a very colorful green snake behind the glass. It had large yellow eyes and was easily 13-15 feet long. 

“What an ugly child.” It hissed. 

Tom blinked looking around to make sure that he was not being pranked. 

“Such wide and fearful eyes, I bet I could squeeze you so that they popped out of your head.” 

Tom glared at the snake. “I bet that I could poison you with one of my mother’s potions.” 

This time the snake seemed to blink. “A speaker, how interesting, perhaps I will not rip out your throat.” it raised itself up so that its large face was even with him from behind the glass. “What do you say little speaker want to make a deal? You let me out and I won’t bite you with my fangs.”

“How would you get me if I did not let you out.” Tom could not help but smile, the snake might be horrible and frightening but it was not very bright. 

The snake flicked its tongue in and out and then lunged at that glass. Tom reared back and fell over. 

The snake started laughing. 

“It’s not funny.” Tom got up, feeling his anger starting to peek. 

“It is it is.” The snake continued to laugh. “Frightened little rabbit, I can taste your fear.” 

“Tom?” His mother's hands were on him and he jumped and broke eye contact with the snake. She looked at him with very concerned eyes. He never liked that look. “Were you talking to it?”

He nodded and then the Shopkeeper that apparently had waited till this moment to spring started pointing at him. “That boy… That boy has the markings of a dark wizard.” 

Tom froze at that. 

“There is nothing to that old tale.” His mother was quick to pull him behind her. He had never seen her so mad. 

“There is! There is! That whole line is rotten to the very core.” 

“Forget our business.” She spat. “You can keep your bloody owl.” 

“I will as if to save it from the likes of you, dark witch.” The man raised his wand. “Get out of my store!” 

His mother held her wand now, it was up and he could feel her magic. “I am a light Witch. My husband was an Aura and if you insult me or son again and even think about using that wand on us before we leave I will hex you so badly there will be nothing left for the ministry to use as evidence.” 

The man did nothing as they left. Tom’s heart was racing, he looked up at his mother but she was not looking at him. She said nothing until they were in a more open space. 

“Hold my hand tightly.” She demanded. 

And Tom did as he was told, confused and knowing that they were going home where it was safer. There was a pop and they were at the gate to their home. His mother let go of his hand and they made their way inside.


	8. Part Vlll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank You all for your wonderful feedback!
> 
> Let's get to the next chapter, shall we?

Hermione sat down at the kitchen table and put her head onto it. She was so angry, she could not help it. She just let out a frustrated growl rubbing at her head her hair fluffing and making her look more and more like a lion. 

She was still shaking and was glad that she had pulled them away from that situation though getting an owl from another wizarding town would be a total inconvenience. And to think he dared to call her or Tom dark! 

Ha! 

He was just a bigoted old man. There were so many of those around now. Her so-called business friends would not hesitate to turn on her the second that they learned that she was a Muggle-born. 

There was just so much hate, was there no way to curb it? 

Well, she supposed that once she had her own shop she could afford to hire whoever it was that she wanted. She felt that it would be fun to just slap everyone in the face by hiring people that were skilled that they would have written off as undesirable. Maybe she would hire Werewolves. She was sure that her biggest competitor would fall in the next few years, as there were investigations under the way and even if they hated her politics or ethics people would be forced to recognize her skill. And of course, buy from her. 

Her thoughts were cut off as she could hear the soft footsteps of Tom and then could feel him sitting be it cautiously down next to her. She looked over and could see him shifting there holding onto his winter coat not exactly sure of what to do in the situation. 

It made everything be put in painful clarity for her. Tom was the one that was more deeply affected. He had been talking to the snake after all. She had been quite disturbed to see it but had been expecting it eventually. If only the way he had found out was in a more favorable setting where they wouldn’t be threatened by the knowledge. 

Tom was probably scared having the thing talk to him, and even more so that the man had yelled at him about being dark...

“I am not mad at you Tom.” Hermione huffed. “That man I just wanted to hex him.” 

“Hex,” Tom blinked. “Like curse him? 

“Perhaps not literally, but I was really upset that he would say such things about us. I take this family very seriously.” She took another large breath, it just rubbed her the wrong way. Here she was trying to make Tom feel as though he had nothing to worry about and was going to be a great wizard and then this man had to come around and just cast rain clouds onto the whole thing. 

Tom looked at her as if he was looking into her very soul. She wished that he wouldn’t have such a blank face when he did that. He then just unleashed his questions in rapid succession as if a dam had broken and he had a need to just get it all out there. 

“Is talking to snakes really all that bad? Can lots of people do it? Because that snake was really nasty and I don’t know if they are all like that, but I did not like it at all. It wanted to eat me. And if they are all like that I could see why people wouldn’t like it. It also feels like they are whispering in your ear which adds to making it a bit scary.”

She blinked trying to keep up with him.

“Are there any snakes in our area? If there are they aren’t that big right? Otherwise, I would have seen them. And do they have venom? That snake didn’t tell me if it was poisonous.” 

“Tom.” Hermione tried to interject. 

“Aren’t the houses at one of the possibly wizarding schools a snake. You mentioned that once.” 

“Tom,” Hermione repeated a bit firmly. “I can not answer your questions if you do not take a breath between them.”

Tom fell silent his face turned bright red and he looked at his lap a moment till the color died down. She shook her head. The hat might sort him into Ravenclaw yet. 

“To start there are snakes that live in our area, they are called Adders and they are venomous. Venomous means if they bite you then it injects its harmful toxins into you. Poisonous refers to if you were to eat it then you would get sick and the toxins released into your body. Now Adders are not nearly as big, most snakes that you will come across in England are only about 2 meters max and most are harmless.” 

She did not want to talk about snake language but she supposed that it would come up one way or another if he went to school at Hogwarts. She really hoped that the thing stayed dormant but there was always the chance. 

“Parseltongue or the language of snakes is a very uncommon gift. People that can speak it are called Parselmouths. There have been few known Wizards and Witches that have the ability.”

Notably, she thought to herself your mother’s line. But she would not tell him that. She had no reason to at the current time and was unsure that she would ever tell him his true origins. 

As Tom was quiet, Hermione felt that perhaps she should address the man's bigotry in the store. She did not care for the things that he was selling, but he had been reputable. She would metaphorically strangle Malfoy if she saw him anytime soon. 

“The trait is passed down through families,” she continued carefully. “There have been very notable not so great people that have had this trait. All of them are rumorly descended from the Salazar Slytherin line. Salazar was considered to be a dark wizard that many feared. He had the ability to do great but terrible spells and was known for his dislike of Muggle-born Witches and Wizards. He disliked them so much that he wished that they would not be able to attend the magical school of Hogwarts in which he helped to found. There are other rumors that suggest that he did far more than just dislike them, but that will have to wait until you are older.”

“Can you talk to snakes or could Dad?” Tom seemed to be letting it all sit in. He was in a more relaxed position. 

“I can not do it no.” She admitted and I know that your father could not either. But certain magic attributes can skip generations. Some Muggle-born are for example most likely the sons and daughters of a past squib, or a child born from Witches and Wizards that does not have magical capability, many who such go and live among Muggles.” 

“So I am special to be able to speak it?” Tom again had that blank face that made him so very hard to read. 

“You are.” She smiled because even if she was not a huge fan of the implications people would have of the gift or her negative experience with it, she did not want him to think of himself as any less. “While there are some negative people that will no doubt dislike the gift. I think that it will surely have its uses to you.” 

She mentally begged the great founders of Hogwarts and fate itself that, that use did not come from attacking anyone with a very large snake that laid down in the chamber of secrets sleeping.

“Should I hide that I have the skill?” He asked abruptly. 

“It is up to you if you want to tell people. I for one don’t need you to hide it from me, and Whimsy will not ask that of you either.” 

Tom hugged her much to her surprise and she felt a bit of air leave her with the crushing of his hug. She patted him a bit on the back. 

~/*\~ 

It had been a few weeks since the incident with the snake. Tom decided that if all snakes were going to be like the one that he met that he didn’t like them. He did not care for most animals outside of Paws anyway. And perhaps one of the reasons that he liked her was that she did not talk. He could tell to some extent what she was thinking but she did not whisper it into his ears. 

He tried to be happy that his birthday and Yule were coming. They had gotten the tree down and this was the first time that Tom could remember at least helping with the thing. It was bright and colorful. 

Tom had a feeling that his mother did not like Yule. She had the habit of being very quiet around the time according to Whimsy. She almost went through the motions of decorating for it, except when it came to opening gifts. It had been Whimsy’s idea that Tom get his mother something and perhaps that would help her spirits. 

He had no one to really scheme with so Paws had to do. The cat did not do much more than watch him scribble down ideas and rough drawings of what it should be. As far as he could tell his mother liked things she could use. He never really saw her buy anything that she did not have a use for or would eventually make use of.

The one thing that he knew that she liked was hats and so he thought about how one would go about getting a hat. The best thing he could do was head to the Muggle town that was over a 2-mile track down the road. Such a thing would take him far past the wards and into possible dangers. He knew the way, but he did not exactly feel the bravest heading that way and across John’s family plot. 

Or he could try and use some of the skills that he had learned and visit the forest that bordered the property. He did not know if anything lurked behind those trees, but he knew that there were some plants that could be harvested in winter and only in winter. 

He pulled out one of his mother’s large plant books and while he was not able to read it all that well, he was able to pick out winter and blooming. He found one such plant that he possibly could find. Winter aconite (Eranthis hyemalis) he looked at the words not really understand it all that much but it was a pretty looking flower. 

He pointed it out to Paws that just yawned and batted at the page. He took the book quickly glaring at her. 

He could perhaps find this plant. He went and grabbed his coat. His mother was still downstairs brewing so he would have to tell Whimsy where he was going, and the old elf hopefully would not check on him for a bit. With this determination and feeling that the worst thing that the woods could have was a fox or deer, Tom made his way out towards the wood. 

The woods were on very uneven land and it was harder than expected to move around the growth that was in there. Tom had to bend down low and crawl past some of the thick weaving branches. It was silent the forest but that was not unwelcome. Tom did not like birds. They were loud and would fly at him. It was part of the reason that he had thrown rocks at them. 

He made his way over a bunch of stones and nearly fell down the hill. He managed to catch himself on the large tree branch. That went across the deep divot in the ground. He could feel the heavy book in his backpack starting to pull him down. He scrambled up onto the thing and caught his breath. 

This is what he got for trying to be nice. He should have just made a card or something. It felt like it was too late to turn back though, he liked his mother and she would like the flowers. 

I can do this he thought to himself over and over again. I can do this. 

He kept moving, the cold was starting to get to him. He should turn back, he wasn’t going to find the plant. But when he turned around he really didn’t have an idea where he was. He tried to follow his footprints back but some of them had disappeared as the snow blew around him. 

Tom let out a stifled cry of anger at himself and the weather. The trees around him bent and heaps of snow fell around him. He shuddered feeling some of it get past his coat and onto his neck. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione tried her best to get every last bit of the Calming Drought out of the cauldron. It was no easy feat because the blasted cauldron was heavy and using any magic in lifting it would have caused it to slip under her high expectations and regulations of what Granger Grade meant. 

She nearly dropped the cauldron when Whimsy popped into the basement. 

“Master Tomas said that he wanted to play in the backyard and is gone. Whimsy was cleaning his room and checking every few minutes and Tomas is gone.” 

Hermione actually dropped the cauldron at that point. “What?” 

She did her best, not to go ballistic at the elf. She was doing her best, but apparently had not been paying close enough attention to a 4-year-old. Tom was only 2 weeks from 5 but it was not like that mattered. She breathed deeply in and out of her nose. 

Okay Tom had to be nearby she grabbed her coat as she rushed up the stairs, she could make out a couple of footprints that lead towards the woods. 

Godric Damn it! 

Okay….

Okay… 

It was really cold. Tom easily could have gotten lost but there was nothing but the chill that was out in the woods that could get to him. 

If he was smart he would call for Whimsy and she would be able to pop right next to him, but she doubted that a child that was exploring or panicking would have that sort of foresight. 

She cast Appare Vestigium the tracking spell and searched for any sort of magical trace. There was a large bit of it concentrated towards the middle of the woods. It was very dark magic, built of rage and possibly fear. Hermione rushed forward. 

She did not know how fast she ran but she felt as if she had never run so fast in her entire life. She flung herself through thicket, and over uneven ground until she was right next to the place that the explosion of Magic had happened. There were thankfully tracks and she quickly followed them. Sitting on the ground by a small patch of yellow flowers was Tom. 

She sucked in breaths, finally having her adrenaline die down seeing that he seemed to be okay. She was caught between shaking him from making her so scared and hugging him. 

Tom had one of her books in front of him and seemed to be trying to make sure that it was the one in the book. 

He turned and fell when he saw her. 

She must have looked like a terrifying creature, because she sure felt it, because as the fear died down. She could not help but feel very upset at him and his carelessness. If it had been spring there was a real chance that he could have wandered near nesting farries or other creatures that would not take kindly to him pulling up the flowers. 

“Ma.” He stuttered out. 

She folded her arms. “Tomas R. Granger I am very disappointed in you.” 

He sat up awkwardly. 

“Do you have any idea how worried I was.” She raised her voice, trying hard to contain herself. “Did you not think for 5 seconds that there are things in these woods that could have hurt you? I cannot believe that you would lie to Whimsy and wander in here, you know better.” 

Tom blinked at her and then shut the book clutching it close. “I wanted to get you a gift.”

She suddenly felt herself deflate a little. “You wanted to get me a gift for Yule?” 

Tom nodded. “I wanted to get you flowers that bloom in the winter so that you could use them.” He held out some of the flowers that he had pulled from the ground. They had the bulbs still attached so if she wanted to plant them that she could.

“Tom those are Winter Aconite they are very poisonous.” Hermione stared at the plant that he was holding. “Potions that involve this plant are poisons.” 

Tom frowned then. “So not something that you would like…” 

He sounded so hurt and disappointed. She was finding it hard to stay upset with him. She rubbed at her face. “They can be useful to ward off pests…” 

Tom started smiling a very small and nervous one. Oh he was trying to get off the hook for this one and it was sort of working. 

“I am still disappointed that you lied to Whimsy, and you will apologize to her and myself. I will also be grounding you and you are not to leave the house until after the Yule.” 

“I am sorry but…” 

“I know that you had good intentions.” Hermione cut him off. “But I don’t want you to try to excuse your behavior. You made us both worry and no matter the reason, lying is not something I want you to do when it comes to our family. Honesty between us is important.” 

Tom’s face scrunched up and she knew that he was trying his best to try and put himself into her shoes. 

“I am not sorry that I went to get you a gift,” Tom said puffing up a bit. “But I am sorry for lying and worrying you. It was not nice of me.” 

She sighed. Good enough.

She held out her hand to him and he took it. 

They started to walk back towards the house. 

“Ma.” Tom finally broke the silence as they reached the tree line. 

“Yes?” She looked down at him, his face was very pink from the cold. His eyelashes had snowflakes on them. 

“Will Santa still come?” 

She nearly burst out laughing because of course Tom was worried about that.

“We will see.” She nodded and Tom started salking.

~/*\~

Yule morning came and Tom made his way down the stairs long before anyone was up in an attempt to see if Santa had indeed come or not.

To his glee, there were too great a deal of presents not to have been visited. He started to feel at them and shake them quietly starting to make guesses on what was inside. He could guess a flatter one was a book and the puffy one was some clothing. The ones that were from his mother were too hard to guess because they were too heavy to pick up and far too well packaged. 

Paws joined him in his efforts of problem-solving. She was sniffing one that was addressed to her and Tom wondered how Santa was so all-knowing that he had managed to know about the recent addition to their family. The cat bit a small hole into the packaging and Tom could see some sort of cloth in it. It certainly gave Tom a few ideas.

His mother had come down a bit later and had laughed that he had put holes into the packages. 

Tom got a cookbook from Santa and a stuffed black cat. It had yellow button eyes and was made of velvet. It was incredibly soft and he asked if his mother would help make clothes for it so that it could look like the real wizard cat paws.

Whimsy had volunteered when his mother had told him she was not that good at sewing. 

His mother had bought him a potion set and they would be using that set to make the recipes from the wizard cookbook. He felt perfectly excited about starting that part of the training.

His birthday came quickly and he had gotten a children’s broom. His mother had taken him out into the yard to try it out. Having been on house arrest Tom was very happy to be outside. The broom as it was for children such as himself had limitations. It could not go higher than 3 feet, but it was pretty fast. His mother had to run after him when he did manage to get the balancing of it. He liked how she chased him and they played Tag. Paws ran after him as well doing her best to keep up but eventually deciding that it was not worth her efforts. 

It was a good birthday and Tom was now 5. He only had 6 more years till he could go to school and have a wand. He could not wait. 

~/*\~

Hermione did her absolute best to keep her head up during the meeting. It was an event that she had been asked to attend as had many professional brewers. She should have been honored to have come but she really didn’t feel that honored when it was 3 hours into the thing. 

It felt like all they were doing here was listening to the Ministry officials complain about incidents that had occurred recently involving cauldrons. 

“What say, you Mrs. Granger?” 

She blinked twice before she had realized that she had been dragged into the conversation. Finally, she could give her two cents and go.

“I disagree with the need to have regulations on the thickness of cauldrons. I use different thickness depending on what I am brewing. It helps with consistency and temperatures. I do see your concern for those that are marking the cauldrons of different consistencies than they are saying it really does pose a threat to those that purchase them. Have people mark them accordingly with a heavy fine or even Azkaban sentence if they are repeat offenders and are putting others into danger. ”

“And so Granger reveals one of her secrets.” One of the men that were sitting next to her nodded in agreement. “I also find that using the correct material consistently cauldron for the potion is incredibly useful. If you take away the option, you take away good ways in which to make all sorts of needed potions.”

The official looked like he wanted to argue but Hermione stood. “I say that we put it to a vote. You asked us here and we can give a show of hands that are for or against your policy. No offense but it seems to me that nothing ever gets done around here and I would like to spend my birthday somewhere other than this room.” 

So maybe her birthday was the next day but who really cared at this point, she just had to get the hell out of there. 

‘Here, here.” Larus smiled at her. He was still a close friend. He had made a few advances but Hermione had declined and now he was dating a very nice Muggle-born girl, that would soon if everything went correctly he would be married to. 

It did not take more than a couple of minutes more before everyone was piling out of the meeting room. 

“Henry Crockford.” the man that had agreed with her shook her hand before he left. “I am so very happy that there are still people that are doers attending these things. If you are ever in need of a rare ingredient acquired let me know.” He slipped her his card before she could say anything. 

~/*\~

Again time seemed to fly by and Hermine was amazed at how big Tom was getting. 6 years old she could hardly believe it. He was a little bean pole, decently tall but very thin. His face was still that of a little doll and his complexion was far too pale. His hair was also a bit longer and not as prone to sticking up on end. She missed his little cowlicks. He had cleared most of her test runs with cooking and she had started letting him prepare ingredients with her in the basement. Tom was naturally good at it. He was able to focus and was really observant. He was quite when working but not afraid to ask questions when he needed to. He was nearly ready to start his first real potions and she was sure that by 7 that he would easily be able to do all the potions in the 1st year Hogwarts textbook. 

“This one is bad.” Tom held up a ginger root that had a deep black spot on it.

“Yes, definitely.” Hermione agreed. Setting down her knife momentary to vanish it. 

“Ma I was thinking,” Tom was looking at her fully now. “That I could keep a pet snake in the house. I could talk to it and it wouldn't be much trouble.” 

“What kind of snake, and where did you hide it in the house?” Hermione did not bother to look up from her work. 

“I…” Tom faltered whatever 6-year-old logic that he was going to use failed him. “How did you know that I brought it into the house?” 

“I am your mother dear,” she now looked up at him brushing her bangs out of her face. “I know everything, and you just told me.” 

She could feel his magic shift at that, but he did not do anything besides that. 

“It’s an Adder,” Tom admitted. “And it's under my bed in a box.”

“No venomous snakes in the house.” Hermione sighed. “If you want a snake and promise to take care of it, I can see a garder, ball python, or a rat snake.”

Tom nodded. “I suppose that I better release it back into the garden before Whimsy finds it.”

“You go do that.” Hermine agreed just as there was a shriek from the house elf. 

“Um…. Too late.” Tom smiled uneasily, not at all seeming sorry. 

Hermione gave him a dead-eyed stare and he rushed up the stairs almost falling on his face. That kid had near to no athletic coordination. She rubbed at her face and took another ginger root.


	9. Part IX

Tom didn’t feel good.

Scratch that he felt awful. 

He felt cold so very cold that he had chills that made him shake even though he was sweating. He clutched his stuffed Rabbit under all of the blankets. He really should be up by now, his mother would be starting to prepare ingredients and would need his help. But if he moved then the room would spin. 

He breathed in a deep breath trying to make himself get up, but all he ended up doing was coughing, long hard coughs that made him choke a little bit. He sniffled and tried to clear his throat. 

He had never felt like this before. 

Logically he knew that he was sick, the way that his nose was running, and the way that he had to cough every once and a while to be able to breathe, but he had never been sick before. It was probably because he did not go many places except the muggle village to help get food, and the wizarding world to pick up potion ingredients with his mother and drop off potions. There really were no other places that germs and such could have been hiding to get him sick. 

Maybe if he shut his eyes and rested it would all just go away, he did feel really tired…

He tried to adjust himself onto his pillows to be comfortable, but his throat was all dry and scratchy and thus that was pretty impossible.

He hated being sick… 

It was keeping him from learning.

He coughed again hard and could hear footsteps coming up the stairs. It had to be his mother; they were too loud to be Whimsy. His useless, lazy Rat snake didn’t even try to warn him. She just laid on her stick in the tank nearby sleeping. 

“Tom.” His mother was standing in the doorway, she looked at him and her eyes did that thing where they went all soft. 

He wanted to tell her that she did not need to worry but the second that he opened his mouth he coughed. “I’m okay…” He croaked as the coughing subsided. 

“It sounds like you have a bad cold.” She bent down and felt his head, he must have really been warm because her hand felt very cold. “And a fever.” She confirmed. 

He blinked at her, looking at her trying to read what she was thinking. But her face was a bit hidden by her wild hair. 

He coughed again hard and sat up a bit because he didn’t want to cough on her. 

“I can give you something that can help with the coughing and the fever, wait here.” She quickly strode out of the room and he could hear her feet thudding down the stairs.

Right like he wanted to really go anywhere. 

He rubbed at his throat, it really felt like there was something in there that was rubbing weird. He swallowed a bit of spit trying to make the weird ache go away. 

His mother gave him a potion that did help to numb the pain in his throat and lesson the coughs but he didn’t feel any better. Even after a few days in bed. 

If anything he felt worse his neck felt funny and swallowing still felt horrible. 

It felt like he could never get enough sleep. 

Sleep was where things hurt less, being up meant coughing, and talking potions.

His mother was trying, but Tom really didn’t want to eat or to drink anything and force it down his throat. 

Everything was tasting like sand anyways…

His chest hurt the most. It would ache and no matter how he tried he could not stop the coughing. It sometimes was enough to wake him up. His mother would be there with wet-looking eyes and Tom really hated that look.

He wanted to tell her he was fine, but talking was just like eating and didn’t feel like it was worth the effort.

Paws must have known there was something wrong. She curled in on him when he was up to try and comfort him. He appreciated her trying, but he felt as if he had to push her away so he could get napkins to cough into. That and when he did really need a drink she would sometimes get her hair into it. 

~/*\~ 

Tom was very sick. Hermione was not sure what it was that he had. She could tell by the potions that she had given him, that it was no normal cold. No this was some sort of Wizard bug and Tom might have been doing his best to fight it, but it didn’t seem to be going away. 

It had been a week and he was only getting worse. 

She decided to call a Healer to her home, the only one that she trusted in this time, Larus. She sent him an urgent owl and he came as soon as he could. 

Tom was very defensive and didn’t like to have a wand pointed at him from someone that he didn’t know all that well. He was sick and it made him ornery. He lashed out as the man tried to move his shirt slightly. Larus had to have her sit with Tom and Hermione couldn’t help but be slightly embarrassed with his behavior even though she could understand his reasoning.

Tom slept like the dead after his examination his breathing was wheezed and uneven. He had worn himself out with his struggles. Larus looked grim as she walked him to the door to Tom’s room. 

“How bad is it?” Hermione asked softly once they were in the hall. 

Larus leaves against the wall between a few photographs of her and Tom. “I don’t want to lie to you Hermione, we have prized honesty in this friendship, but it’s really bad.” 

“How bad?” She reached out fearfully taking his hand and squeezing it. Her heart had started to race and her stomach curled with dread.

“He has Scrofungulus. It is an illness that is very similar to the Muggle illness tuberculosis as it affects the lungs. It is caused by magical fungal spores that infect the trachea region. This illness will feed off his magic and the fungus will spread inside his body. It will be painful and some of the stalks might breach the skin to form mushrooms in order to spread it further.” 

“Is there anything that can be done.” Hermione felt like she was now in full panic mode, everything in her was fight or flight. She did not want to hear the next words, but she knew that she needed to. She had heard of this illness before, in her healing training but it was uncommon. Deadly and she did not know how to treat it after it infected someone.

“Make him comfortable…” Larus started. Her grip on his hand tightened, as her world shattered. 

“No!” She shook her head, “No there has to be something else that I can do.” 

“There is no cure, it can be held off with status spells but in the end, it does kill the person infected.” Larus started to explain. But she did not hear him. His voice was lost to the void, she dropped his hand. 

She couldn’t lose Tom. He was the one thing that she had in this life. She could see him smiling at her, his little flushed face when he was embarrassed, the way that he would smirk when he did something mischievous… it all flashed in her head and she grit her teeth. 

She could not accept this.

She would not accept this. 

She would not give up. 

She knew that they treated it at St. Mungos in the future, but there was a vaccine then and cases were far and in between. She did not have that know how, but maybe one of the books she had could help her. 

There had to be something. 

She refused to believe that it was hopeless.

“I know that is not what you want to hear...” 

“Shut up!” Hermione screamed at him. “I lost my husband, I lost my daughter, I lost all my friends in a war. I will not lose Tom. He is all that I have.” She gripped at her chest as if that would help the horrible heartache. “I will fix this.” 

Larus again made a move to help comfort her but she took a step back. She would not cry and she did not want to be comforted.

“Cast the status spells.” She demanded. 

“You are upset, I know but…”

“Do it.” She repeated, “and then you can go.” 

After the spells were cast and Larus left, she allowed herself to cry softly. She had built her life around the little boy that was in her care. He had come to mean everything to her. Her days and her thoughts circled back to him no matter what she was doing. She had built a family with a little boy that no one had wanted, one that was so incredibly smart, and capable. He took the pain away when she thought about everything she had lost because she could see what she had gained. She had gained someone that loved her and needed her just as much as she needed him. Her life would not be worth living if Tom was not a part of it. She could not imagine what she would have done had she killed him. Perhaps she would have offered herself in the following years or she would have just become bitter and lived alone. She had not been in a good place before Tom. And certainly wouldn’t be okay after killing a child.

She rubbed his hair out of his face. Paws lifted her head off his stomach where she was resting it. Animals knew when things were bad. And that cat would lay there or walk the bed keeping an eye for him.

Hermione rose from her seat. “I’ll find something to help you.” She promised and assigned Whimsy to keep a very close watch on his condition.

~/*\~ 

Hermoine tore apart her library going from healing charms, to potions, and other books that were darker. She searched through it all and it felt like there was nothing. Nothing that could help. Nothing that made sense or was helpful. 

She was so upset that she just swept her arm across the table and the books that had been on it flew every which way and that, there pages bent and some of them probably dented by the force. She wanted to smash things, she pulled at her hair hard and just took in deep breaths. 

There had to be something that she was overlooking. 

There had to be something that could be done. 

But with each failed book that she tossed away from herself, that sinking feeling was filling her. She had never felt so on a time crunch. Perhaps this had been how Harry had felt when he was trying to prepare for the second task. Each hour was one that was closer to an ending that would destroy her.

Each tick and chime of the clock showed that another hour had passed and Tom was getting worse and worse. 

She was reminded again and again of her failure. 

What kind of mother was she? 

She should have been with Tom, he was scared, sick, and needed her.

But she did not want to stop looking. She could not stop thinking. She could not stop any of the panic that was taking her. If she stopped that meant giving up and Hermione never gave up when her friends needed her. She wouldn’t give up when it was her own child on the line.

~/*\~ 

She had taken only a small break when she had heard that Tom had been awake. She sat with him holding his hand as he was in the new reinstated stasis spell. He was wheezing but it was containing the speed of spread for another few hours. 

He was really warm and she wished that she could bring that heat down the cool pack on his head was all that she could do at the moment. She did not want to give the fungus any of her magic to feed off of besides the one that kept it in stasis. Each time it got shorter. 

She rubbed at Tom’s little fingers and palm. 

She loved him so much…

It hurt so much to see him like this.  
And she had to tear herself away so that she could try again to look through the older tombs that she had.

~/*\~

She held her head, her hair was a mess, greasy, tangled, and fizzed. And yet she kept running her hands through it, as to try and keep calm or keep herself focused. At this point, she really did not know. 

She had been up for hours, probably days, how many she was not sure.

She had only found that the Fungus was spread by spores and could have been on some of her ingredients, ones that usually Tom washed for them before they got started. And that had only made her feel even worse because it was her fault.

It was all her fault.

If he lived, if she ever had him help again she would take precautions. She wouldn’t let anything like this happen again. 

Her guilt was immense and near as overpowering as her panic, fear, and crippling despair. 

~/*\~

Tom was not able to breathe. It felt as if there was something twisting around in his chest. There was an unknown and uncomfortable weight that was squeezing around his throat. He would force air down and then cough it out with tears that would roll down his cheeks. 

His mother was there, she was casting spells he could hear her shaking voice. 

It was one of the times that he woke from whatever sleep he could get that he thought that he was going to die. 

The thought had been unpleasant and a bit scary. But as pollen came out of his mouth in a cloud of gold.

He wondered if it would at least be less painful.

~/*\~

Hermione had been up for so long that it hurt to blink. She had fallen asleep for a few hours, but then she was up again. She could not afford to rest. 

She had just kept turning what she knew over and over. 

It was not much but she had to.

There had to be something that she was missing.

She would refresh the status as it started to die and she would return like a zombie to her work. Her task seemed like it still had no solutions. Tom could not stay in the status forever. The spell could only be cast so many times before there would be lasting, nasty, side effects. 

And yet she still did it.

She held onto all hope that she would find something of use. And as if by some miracle of fate, the gods, Hogwarts founders, or otherwise, she found something in her book of plants.

It was not a cure or obviously the fungus as they were not the same thing as plants. But she found a few plants that had built-in magical and natural properties in which they could kill the parasitic fungus. The problem was some were a little bit toxic to people. In the proper dose perhaps they would not be lethal. But then it was a fungus and she felt incredibly stupid but perhaps just perhaps she could treat him with a combination of that and antibiotics. She would try some of the muggle made and extracted compounds first as it might have been overlooked by Wizards and Witches. Garlic was not poisonous and it had an infinity for killing toxins in the body and many other tuber plants could also be helpful. Hell even Winter Aconite could even be of use. It was not lethal but had a strong acidicness that would be able to kill just about anything, partially why it hurt the stomach so much. 

It was a long shot, but it was the only plan that she had. 

~/*\~ 

Her obtaining a good amount of penicillin and Streptomyces Griseus form the local hospital was pretty easy; she started with that and a few of her more fungi killing plants that would not be deadly in small concentrates. She then made a paste that contained aloe vera and garlic and aconite that could go on the outside of the body along the skin. 

She did not want Tom to be a guinea pig, but at this point, there was no other way to save him. The fungus had started to poke its way out of the skin, and it was only a matter of time until it had grown enough that it would collapse the passageways in the lungs, and Tom would no longer despite the spells she cast to help, be able to breathe at all. 

‘Forgive me.’ She thought. ‘Forgive me if this does not work.’

She forced the potion down his throat first and she then worked on spreading the salve that she had made along his chest. It seemed to kill the ones that had poked through the skin slightly. They turned black and she was able to gently brush them away. She had mixed the potion to dissolve the fungus, as the antibiotics and other toxins made their way into the bloodstream and towards the heart and the lungs. 

It was hard to wait things out, knowing that he was fighting it tooth and nail 

Tom was in bad shape but he held his little eyes open. It reminded her so much of when he was just a toddler, that far away look that told her that he had no idea where they were or what was going on. 

“Are you a forest sprite?” He asked. 

It had been the first time that he had spoken in what must have been over a week. She blinked he must have been delusional even if the fever that was starting to come down. 

“Because you're pretty.” His eyes shut a little before opening again his words a little slurred with his tiredness and raw throat. “I read they sometimes heal people…”

She did not know where he had read it, and she knew that she looked anything but pretty. She was filthy and she had been neglecting taking care of herself. Whimsy had been quite upset with her for not letting her help with her Mistress’s health. 

“I’m not a sprite,” she whispered to him running her hand through his sweat-soaked hair adjusting the ice pack.

“Oh,” said Tom before closing his eyes. 

Tom was always in and out of conciseness at this point. But with steady doses, he started to be able to have his eyes open longer. He was getting better she could tell as the fever was gone and Tom had stopped coughing up small almost ball-like shapes of clumped pollen in his sleep.

~/*\~

Tom knew his mother was tired because she looked awful. Her hair was worse than he had ever seen it as it stuck every which way and even though it usually looked out of control he knew that she had always at least tried to tame it. 

She was sleeping in the wooden dining room chair that she had brought up. Her face was though on his bed and her eyes had black rims around them, it was almost like she had gotten into a fight. She was sleeping soundly. He took this rare moment to watch her. 

His mother never really ever seemed to fully relax, there was always something that she had to do. But now she had a peaceful face at least in the ways that were no hard lines, of her focusing too hard on something. 

She was with him the whole time or at least when he woke he could see her there. He had felt her strong hands on his. He sat up carefully taking the spare blanket and covering her. 

She opened her eyes then. 

Tom shrunk back a little as she just gave a tired smile, her eyes were all watery.

He blinked did she dream again of Dad? 

Was she that tired?

Did he make her cry?

Why was she smiling when she was crying?

His gut twisted funny.

“Ma.” He stuttered. 

“Tom.” She sat up and reached out to him, carefully touching his forehead. “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded dumbly, her hand was pretty warm. No sooner had he really admitted to feeling better, she hugged him so tightly it took the breath out of him, as he was able to breathe a lot better now he did not really like it being taken from him again. 

His brow furrowed. She was holding very, very tightly onto him. She did not smell all that nice. 

“You smell weird.” He commented scrunching up his nose a little. 

She just started laughing like it was the funniest thing that she had ever heard. She was acting very weird. “I am so glad that you’re feeling better.” She shook her head. “Do you feel well enough to eat? I will make you anything or if you're worried about my cooking then I’ll have Whimsy do it.” 

She straightened up after concluding their one-sided hug. 

“Mistress really should just rest.” Whimsy entered the room at the sound of her name. “Mistress has not slept for more than 24 hours in the last two weeks. 

Two weeks….

He had been out that long. He glanced towards the window and there was no longer snow on the ground. Spring had come or it was the dying days of winter. 

No wonder she looked horrible…

She had been really worried.

He did not exactly know what he was feeling at that. It was almost numbness. 

His mother though was starting to shake her head all over again as if she was going to argue with the elf. “Whimsy would you get Larus, I will feel much better and will rest after he comes and does a check-up and clears Tom.” 

“Ma.” He called her attention back to himself. 

He did not like that Healer. He really didn’t like that way that he always looked at his mother. It did not matter if he said that he was dating someone else. Tom did not trust him. And while he did not know exactly what he was feeling in regards to her not taking care of himself. He did know that she would look really unprofessional if someone important was to come over, and she looked like she did. 

She also smelt bad so she probably was getting by with cleaning charms only. He grimaced at the thought. 

“You should sleep.” He stated before adding, “And bathe.” 

She looked over herself and sighed deeply, running a hand through her puffy hair. “I will get clean, but I am not resting until I know if my cure worked or not.” 

“Cure?” He blinked. 

“You were very sick Master Tomas.” Whimsy looked at him with big shiny eyes. “Sometimes when you would stop breathing, Whimsy would worry that it would be your last.” 

And that made him still. 

So he could have died…

He really had been dying…

That really pretty Sprite that visited him must have helped his mother. 

“I had to make a cure for your ailment. I was not even sure that it would work, as they told me it was hopeless. But I promised you that I would always fight with you. I don’t break my promises.” 

His mother looked even more tired now to him, almost weak in away. She had always seemed so strong to Tom. He always thought of her as the most invincible of people. She had lost his father and many friends in a war. She cried sometimes over it, but always got up the next day well dressed and ready to face it.

Tom admired her.

He wanted to be like her. 

And she had saved him, by making a cure that had not existed. She was strong still he knew that. But she was also weak for pushing herself too much. She always was pushing herself. Tom wondered if that was because she was incapable of seeing what she was doing to herself. 

He would have to get stronger in order to protect her, to make sure that she did not push herself like this over him again or anyone else. He would be a great Wizard he decided right then and there. He would be someone that she did not have to fight so hard for. He would not be weak. He still thought to make her feel better and to possibly help to convince her to take care of herself that he better not let on that he knew how to get her to. He sat up as straight as he could and put on his best smile. 

“Thank you, Ma.” 

She made a slightly choked sound. “Don’t thank me, Tom. I was only doing what any mother should do.” 

Tom doubted that anyone else would have done what she had done. The Muggle woman that was John’s mother was always screaming at him. And the other woman that he knew of that was the mother of Walburga would have thrown money at it to make the problem go away. She would not have been able to solve it. 

‘You don’t give yourself credit, mother,’ he thought but did not argue with her. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione had Tom checked over. The whole time that Larus was touching him, or trying to examine him, Tom would comment that he felt fine and would ask him to hurry up. It did not help that Larus wanted to be thorough with his examinations and that Tom did not want to be touched at all. 

It made her more tired than anything near previously. But she was grateful that Tom was acting up like he was. If he was strong enough to put up such a fuss then he must have really felt better. 

“It’s just amazing what you have done, there is not a person I know that could have riddled that all out. It is quite the accomplishment. ” Larus was looking at her as they sat down for tea before he left. 

Tom probably would have joined them only to glare at Larus from across the table but Whimsy had insisted that he have a bath and that she deep cleaned everything upstairs. 

“It does not feel that way. I know that you are happy with the results, and I am glad that Tomas has a clean bill of health. But it is not amazing what went into making that. I had to riddle it out or he would not be here.” Hermione tightened her hands around her teacup. 

She still felt as if she was dreaming, it was unreal. 

She was so grateful that it had worked though she did not know exactly what to thank for letting Tom live long enough for her to come up with a solution. 

“I am truly sorry, I might have sounded insensitive. I am just excited with the prospect of implementing a cure that will save many children and adults that were just as sick as Tomas was. That is something to celebrate Hermione.” Larus looked at her with a smile that was very bright, but she could tell that he was not entirely being unsympathetic. 

They talked a bit more and Larus convinced her to patent the cure, it would need to be tested more, but he could see it really truly seeing lives. And Hermione had agreed to it. It was all a bit surreal that she was an inventor of something… That she could save countless lives…all by sparing and raising the child that in her original timeline had taken so many of them. 

She watched him go and then promptly thought to herself that there was nothing better to be done than sleep for a year to catch up on all the hours that she had missed. 

~/*\~

It took a couple of months but Granger Grade now had something else to stand behind it. Hermione Granger was now known as the Witch that had made a cure for Scrofungulus and she would be known for other things of this she was certain. Hermione Granger now knew what she would do with herself now. She would invent potions that would save lives, some of them that might have just recently been invented in her time but no less important. 

The next thing she would do was invent wolves bane and make it cheaper and more affordable for Werewolves. She would fight the war on injustice and bigotry using her potions and her staff when she did get that place in Diagon Alley. She would take in house elves that were dismissed unfairly, she would take in werewolves, and others alike that were deemed to be unwanted. Yes, this would be her purpose besides raising a very lovely child and trying her damndest to keep him out of trouble.


	10. Part X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that the chapter number has gone up again as now that I have this whole thing planned completely out I can say that it probably will not change again. Unless I am to add some sort of epilogue or something. I usually like to write with bullet points so there can be fun curves on how I reach them, rather than an actual direct path. 
> 
> I am very grateful for all the feedback and have never come to my inbox with so many wonderful comments. I really can not thank you all enough. 
> 
> And so onto the story and Tom being sneaky.

Things were busy but they were looking up. Hermione had acquired more land in which she planned to plant more extensive gardens. It was only a matter of time until she would be able to get the permits needed to grow some of the more controversial and rare plants near her home. Tom was her greatest asset currently in helping her tend the smaller gardens they already owned. It was not that she did not trust Whimsy, it was just the elf was getting a bit older. She was older when Hermione had made their contract but, she looked a bit more her age now. Definitely acting it. The poor thing was having memory problems. 

Whimsy might even need someone to take care of her son, she was having a bit harder time popping and moving places. She was still very good at cooking, and she liked cleaning. Hermione also knew that no matter how bad she got that she would never send her away. One did not send away family. Not ever. 

When all the dust was to settle she would have her potion store, and she would have to hire more help. For now, it was easy enough to just use spells to get what she needed done. But when she did get started planting and producing she would need a lot of help to maintain her greenhouses, and fields. 

That was not for a while, she did not really want to get too involved with everything until Tom was nearing the age of Hogwarts and that was still a few away. She would enjoy the somewhat peace that she was getting now. 

She started to comb her hair, she had washed it with a lot of straightening potions. The radio was turned on to a very nice classical channel. She placed a few pins into the wrap that she was making that soon would form a very nice wavy bun at the top of her head. 

She looked good. She thought as she poked her face a little in the mirror, not bad for someone that had just reached 31. Actually she did not look to be aging at all just looked really tired. The black under her eyes would be an easy fix. She finished up her hair and started to put on some foundation. She did her best fake smile and just ended up sighing and relaxing into a frown. She rather hated these sorts of things.

It was for charity, and they asked her to be there, or rather Larus and Lord Black did, his wife would probably be just as unpleasant as the last time that they had run into each other. Although, that had been before she had made the cure to something that seemed incurable. 

There was a knock on the door, and she did not really have time to answer before Tom opened it, because of course he did. 

“Do you need some thing?” She rubbed the cover onto her skin, pausing only when she thought that she had it mostly even. 

Tom was staring at her, he had a wide-eyed expression on his doll-like face that really did not suit it. 

“What are you putting on your face?” He finally came to his senses. 

She sighed. “I am getting ready for the Party.” She decided to answer truthfully. “And its make up.” 

“Why would you put that on yourself.” Tom looked a bit disgusted. “It looks weird.” 

“That is because I’m not done.” Hermione sighed, nothing like a child’s brutal honesty opinion to make one question one's choices in makeup. 

Tom paused as if to consider this. “I don’t see why you would want to cover who you are. What were they going to say other than that your hair was fuzzy.” 

“Frizzy.” Hermione corrected. 

“Frizzy.” Tom rolled his eyes, a habit that she did not know where he had picked up. 

“Did you need something Tom?” She reminded him that he had been the one to open the door. 

“I just wanted to try and talk you out of going again. It’s not even something that has to do with potions, it's an art auction.” He folded his arms very tightly in front of him. 

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Would that not defeat the purpose of me spending so long on getting ready?” 

“It’s not my fault that you wanted to fix something that didn’t need to be fixed.” Tom grumbled before adding, “Or put goop onto your face.” 

Hermione counted to ten mentally, they had been over this before. 

“I am going.” She repeated, “because it is important for the local hospital to receive charity funds.” 

Tom scowled further. “I don’t see why you have to go with him though.” 

“I am not going with Larus, just because he is meeting me here to help me apparate to the designated location, which I have never been, does not mean that he is taking me. Besides he is taking to Sara.”

Tom muttered something that sounded something like remind him that. 

“If you have to go,” Tom switched tactic. “You don’t have to stay for the whole thing right?”

“I am not planning to, no.” Hermione put a little color onto her lips. 

Tom nodded as if this was a good thing. She was not exactly sure why he was acting the way that he was, but she chalked it up to for whatever reason he did not like Larus. 

“Your invitation said that you could bring someone, I read it over.” Tom fidgeted in the door frame. 

“I am not bringing anyone in case you are worried.” She put the lipstick away and took out one of her brushes so that she could add a tad of pink to her cheeks. 

He fidgeted a little more. “Is everyone there going to be adults?” 

“No, I am sure that there are going to be a couple of people that bring their whole family. Are you trying to tell me that you want to go?” Hermione put the rest of her make up away back into the bathroom closet. “Because you are dancing around it.” 

“Maybe.” Tom held his head up. 

“I have an hour before I need to leave. If you are wanting to go you will say it now so that I can pick you out something that would be appropriate to wear.” 

“I know I have to wear dress clothes.” Tom defended. 

“Yes, and they have to be the best robes that you own.” Hermione fixed him with a look. “Complete with a tie and vest. 

Tom grimaced. “I can do that.” 

“If you get ready, I will take you.” Tom smiled very brightly and started to tear off towards his room down the hall. “But I better not hear anything about how bored you are.” Hermione called after him. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione adjusted the tie that Tom had attempted to tie. He did look quite cute. He combed his bangs over trying to keep up with the times. She could not help but brush it back to a more natural look. He scowled at her for it. 

“Aren’t we going to be warm in all the layers.” He complained just a little as they sat at the kitchen table by the back door waiting for their escort. 

Whimsy who had already taken their picture once took another as they sat there. 

“I can always cast a cooling charm for you if you need it.” Hermione adjusted her longer sleeves so that they were just a tad rolled up. She had a glimmer over the area that had old scars, had she not there would have been a LD showing from the damaged area. 

Tom took a sip from his chocolate milk that Whimsy had made. He was drinking it in the very nice mannered way that he had been taught from Whimsy in the case that they ever had guests. Tom did not like those lessons very much and had pointed out that the only one that ever visited was Larus and it was not like that man would care. Tom swung his legs back and forward as he waited. The clock ticked and Hermione busied herself by reviewing the invitation. 

Larus came just at 6:50 like he said that he would and Paws was the first to be alerted to the pop. she hissed and ran under the table as she saw him enter through the back door. Tom reached his hand down so that he could comfort her. 

“Hermione.” Greeted first with a large smile, his smile only slipped a little when he saw a very dressed up Tom sitting at the table. “Tomas.” 

“Mr. Abbott.” Tom did not bother to hide his displeasure. 

“I was unaware that you would be attending this evening.” Larus was back into full swing again. “I am glad that you are interested in art.” 

“He decided that he would like to go a bit last minute, I hope that will be fine.” Hermione put on another one of her smiles, though she really wished that Tom would not be looking at Larus like he was one of the Newts that he had to gut before they could use it in a potion. 

Larus waved his hand. “I am sure that it is, lots of people are expected to bring plus ones.” 

“I know that a few of the others were bringing their children.” Hermione agreed, dusting her dress off as she stood. Whimsy moved forward to clean up the dishes. 

“Thank you.” Hermione thanked her and Tom mumbled one as he handed off his glass. Paws rubbed against his leg and he bent down again to move her away from his dress robes.

“Paws, you are going to get me all harry again.” He said disapprovingly. 

Paws just purred and Tom looked at Hermione in a look that was only slightly sorry that she would have to use another tighty up spell as he picked her up and put the child gate up so that she was stuck outside of the kitchen unless she tried to jump it. 

Hermione did the charm again and Tom took her hand. Larus smiled at the action extending his own as they made their way into the yard. There was a loud pop and they appeared outside a very large estate. 

“I shall see you inside Hermione.” Larus dropped her hand, “I shall be waiting for Sara out here.” 

She nodded and waited for Tom to look less like he was going to be sick. He really seemed to be bothered by apparition. Perhaps it would be a bit better when he was no longer doing it as a side along. 

~/*\~

Tom hated bloody apparition. It always made his stomach feel like it was twisting up in tangled knots. And he did his best to not embarrass himself by throwing up on his dress shoes. The place looked like a mansion. He did not hold onto his mother’s hand as they made their way inside. He would not look like a little child that needed to cling.

He was not Walburga for gosh sakes and thinking of her made him shudder as he knew that she would be here. That girl seemed to want to drag him places and he would not allow it. She was touchy and weird and the thought of spending the night having to be nice to her was not one that was all that pleasing. 

He had to come to the event though, his mother never liked these social events and if he was there he could help her get out of bad conversations and to leave early. It also would keep that annoying Larus and people like him away from gripping and touching his mother's hand and arm. She certainly did not make it an easy task with what she was wearing. She looked too nice, and as such there was no way that they would not be recognized or looked at. 

There were always suiters at these things. He knew that because he had heard his mother complain to Whimsy about it. And Tom did not like the idea of his mother dating, it had come up in passing a few times when they had made deliveries. People had asked his mother out just flat out and she had always denied them. But a few times when they were at home. Tom could tell that she was actually considering it. 

Tom did not want anyone else interfering with their lives. He liked being the sole receiver of his mother’s attention. The idea of sharing was not something that Tom liked. It might have to do with the fact that he never had to share anything that made him not want to, or it might have been the fact that Tom preferred things that he knew. Things that he could control as well. Tom had a schedule. He knew everything that was supposed to happen, and his mother, as well as Whimsy, had predictable reactions to things. That consistency and predictability were important to Tom. He felt safer knowing every variable to something there was. 

It was why he read over all the potions books hundreds of times, so he knew the second that something looked wrong or strange. People were unknown variables. While Tom could make predictions on what they were going to do. He did not know them fully and as such they could cause him more problems than it was worth. They could hurt him or his family, just because they could. They could do things to spite them, cheat them, they would date his mother just to learn her secrets and then leave her. Tom would not allow that. No, he would not let anyone cause his mother to cry. She did that enough on holidays or sometimes from nightmares. It was not that he would falt out deny her happiness, but he had to make sure that the person was worth sharing time with, and that they would not use her. 

Animals made much better friends. One never had to really guess what Paws was thinking or what her motivations were. Everything that Paws did could be placed into 3 categories Food, Sleep, and Attention seeking. She would be cute for attention and a treat and she would follow him everywhere in hopes of that combination. 

Shani, or in layman's terms Saturn, was a little different. Snakes were a bit like people, they had very distinct personalities. Though their motivations were more in line to that of animals. Shani was a rat snake, and she was a great companion. One that so happened to be hiding inside of his pocket. He pet her head for comfort. Having her was as good as having a wand. While she was still small she was very quick and her bite while not venomous was sure to hurt. She stuck her white head up a little and he brushed her back into his pocket with a quiet word of stay. She was of course named for the god associated with ambition as snakes were very ambitious and things, status because Tom had learned that snakes were very proud creatures almost painfully so. And she was associated with equitable punishment, as she had never struck without meaning to kill for food or defense. She was a patient creature and one that held a toughness to her as well as a very heavy helping of pessimism. 

She was quiet only because he asked her to be, and she did not particularly like the request but knew an extra mouse was in it for her if she helped to protect him tonight, and stayed hidden unless needed. She did not move much as his pocket was warm and pressed close to his body heat. 

Tom lost track of how many people struck up a conversation with them in the main ballroom. They all would want to talk to his mother about work, what she was up to, and then lastly they would set their eyes on Tom himself. Especially if they were not making much headway besides pleasantries with his mother. 

They all said that he could be a very great potions master like his mother. Tom, while being polite and otherwise silent during their ramblings, did not particularly like being compared to her. He loved his mother even if he was not the best at showing it or most emotions in general much like Shani. He wanted to be like her yes, but he did not want to be seen as just some extension of her. He wanted to be great in his own way, and for his own achievements. Yes, it was partially so that he could live up to his family name, but it was not just because of that. Tom was special, he knew that. He was one of the few speakers that were left. Shani had been happy to give herself over to him because of that. She was even more honored to be given a name. Tom also knew that he was powerful magic wise, being very susceptible to feeling it around himself. He could feel wards around him for instance that were dampening some sort of magic that he guessed to be Apparition. He could also see little dustings on people that must have been glimmers. For instance, Sara that was standing next to his mother now had one that was on her face in some places, he could only assume it was to cover acne. 

Eventually, since it was unavoidable, Walburga did find them. Not that they were really hiding, but she had managed to slip away from her mother and she had with her the pretty white-blond boy that he had met only once at the bookstore. 

“Tomas.” Walburga barged her way into the circle of adults. 

He really wished that he could pretend not to have heard her but she was so loud that there was no way in which he could deny it. Shani let out a low hiss as she had been bothered by the noise so close to her sensitive ears. 

“Miss Black.” He greeted. 

“Tomas, you have met Abraxas right?” She gestured. 

“Once, before.” He acknowledged. 

His mother was looking down at him with a slight smile and he did not like the way that she was smiling at him. 

‘Don’t you do it.’ He thought, 'do not send me off with them.’ 

She did not seem to understand his facial expressions, or if she did she thought that forcing him to be social with children his own age would be helpful. As she did nothing as Walburga dragged him away explaining to him that there were a lot of cool things in her home that were outside of this room. 

Godric damn it how was he supposed to protect her when she sent him off. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione watched as Tom was led away from her. He didn’t look too happy and was looking back at her as if to hope that she would say something. Not that she really liked Walburga that much because she did seem to have her mother’s slight attitude problems, but she could not deny the chance for Tom to at least interact with people that were his age. 

“Tomas looks like she would rather die than go with them.” Sara smiled a little. 

“He is not very social.” Hermione admitted. “He doesn’t have any friends that are his own age.” 

“It probably does not help that you live near a muggle town.” Larus gave her a knowing look. “Muggles are a bit hard to get along with when one has magic that they can not always control at that age.” 

“I have tried before to get him to play with anyone, but he keeps telling me that animals are easier.” Hermione shook her head. “It is probably why he tries to adopt more and more pets.” 

Sara smiled at that. “I didn’t have friends until school started, he will be alright once he finds exactly what he needs in a friend.” 

“Or he finds someone that just insists that they are.” Hermione shook her head. “He probably would end up liking them just because they stuck by him annoyingly enough.” 

Larus laughed a little at that. “I think that he will definitely find that in school, it's hard to try to escape when you're forced to have classes with people.”

Hermione nodded. “Tomas is a bit too smart for his own good, and very blunt. I just hope that it doesn’t get him into trouble with too many of his classmates.”

“He still has how many years?” Larus shrugged. 

“4 and it makes me feel very old.” Hermione admitted. 

“You don’t look it.” Sara shook her head. “If anything you don’t look like you have aged at all in the few years that I have known you. What sorts of glimmers are you using or what sort of treatments are you utilizing?” 

Hermione shrugged. “I don’t really have much of a routine or anything but my mother never really looked her age either.”

“Genetics.” Sara sighed. “They work in funny ways don’t they.” 

Hermione could agree with that. 

“Tomas did not seem to get much from you in looks.” Sara continued. “I do see his brown eyes match yours though.” 

Hermione’s eyes softened as she chuckled. “He looks a lot like his father, and I should be glad that he did not get my hair.”

“Your hair looks nice tonight though.” Larus pointed out. “And certainly it would be fun to see another lion running around.” 

Tom was not really a lion. Hermione knew that better than anyone else. He was a snake, waiting for his time to strike up conversations and whatever else. Tom brought warmth to her heart but she could not help but think of that old quote that fires while they could warm the hands that held it close, there was always the chance to get burned. Tom was like that with a lot of people he interacted with. He always had that warm smile but could say the most biting of things. She just hoped that he behaved well enough with the other children, perhaps sending him off with them was a bad idea. 

~/*\~

Walburga led them around to the gardens and despite himself, Tom was enjoying that. He liked plants and felt very comfortable around them. The gardens held many flowers that he had never seen outside of him plant books, and he took note of all the poisonous ones. The hedges around them were tall, creating a near maze as they made their way around in them. Tom had a feeling that Walburga had led them in there just so that they would not be able to ditch her and find their way out easily. 

Good thing Tom was very good at puzzles and paid close attention to the bends that they had taken. He paused by a large hedge that was shaped into a horse and looked at the small purple flowers that were in the surrounding the flower bed. He had not seen them before. He tried to commit them to memory so that he could look them up later. 

“Your pocket is moving.” Abraxas who had been giving him rather bored looks through their trip with Walburga finally decided to break his silence.

Tom tilted his head. “I think you are imagining things.” 

“No, it is really moving.” Abraxas leaned into his personal space in a matter of fact voice. “What are you hiding in there?” 

Tom sighed deeply. “A snake.”

Abraxas blinked comically. “A snake really?”

“No, I have an owl in there.” Tom scowled. 

“No need to be rude about it.” Abraxas backed off a bit looking over to where Walburga was still wandering up the trail and away from them. “Can I see it?” 

Tom shrugged and let out a small quiet hiss. ~Come ~ 

Shani poked her head out of his pocket.

~I had finally gotten comfortable ~ She complained. Her silver eyes met Abraxas’s as he was a bit too close to them. ~Oh I see why you called. Such an ugly human. Do you need me to bite him?~ 

Tom laughed at that but did not respond as he did not need Abraxas to know his secret. “She doesn’t like when people are real close to me.”

“What’s her name?” Abraxas backed a bit away. “I think she is pretty whatever breed she is.” 

“Her name’s Shani.” Tom shrugged as he let her climb up and around his arm. “She is a black rat snake.” 

“I like that name.” Abraxas smiled largely. “Father will not allow any pets in the manner. I think it is because my mother is allergic to everything with fur. I wanted a dog because they are so loyal, you know.” 

He looked like he wanted to pet her, and Shani would not have allowed that unless he told her that she should play nice. She did not like to be handled all that much. She preferred to look dignified and she did not feel like it was that way to be petted like a common pet. She would argue that she was not a pet but rather a companion. One that held a bit of magic in her core. Tom could feel it, throbbing by her heart. 

Tom never asked for the other's opinion but he supposed that he could understand that it wouldn’t be fun not to live without animals. “You could get an owl and train it to do more than carry mail, that way it had a purpose and your father would probably think that was all it was for. People forget that owls can be very loving.” 

It was the best that he could give considering the circumstances. He did not really want to be standing there in the empty garden with this boy. Tom did not trust him one bit. The Malfoys were one of those families that prized blood. Why his mother would ever think that he should be friends with this boy he would never know. 

“That’s actually really smart.” Abraxas nodded excitedly before adding. “You’re pretty smart. The only problem is I don’t have anyone to write to and he would find it weird that I wanted one. ” 

Perhaps it was to build connections now that he thought about it because he was hardly that smart. 

“Of course I am smart.” Tom felt slightly insulted but did his best to hide that fact. “And you just need to get yourself someone to write to.” 

Shani blinked her big eyes and coiled around his neck so she could whisper in his ear. Tom wished that she wouldn’t do that. It always felt weird. 

~He smells weird~ She slipped around his shoulder stretching out so that her large silver eyes met the other kids. ~He smells of flowers, gold, and fear. I wonder what he would do if I bit him.~ 

“What is she doing?” Abraxas asked a little concerned that the snake was not leaning closer to his face. 

Tom put his hand between them, Shani bumping her nose against his hand. “Snakes are curious creatures.” 

~Fine I get it, no biting. Though I would love to show him my strength. Let me squeeze him a bit.~ 

The white-haired boy nodded. “Makes sense, I guess.” He hesitated. “You know we are the same age and will probably be going to school together. I also know that our parents are on good terms, do you think that we could write to each other so that I could get an owl. I’ll invite you to things so that if you don’t want to be friends we can at least act like we are. It would be beneficial don’t you think? They would think that we were being social and all.” 

Tom felt a small smile grace his face. “That I think is the smartest thing that you have said this evening.”

“Shut up.” Abraxas folded his arms. 

“If I do that how will I tell you where to send your post.” Tom started strolling away from the direction that Walburga had gone and back towards the party. 

Abraxas made a very childish sound before rushing to catch up with him.  
~/*\~ 

Hermione sat at a nice table with a few other people. Tom would not be missing the event, spending time with kids that perhaps that he did not like was better. Out of the corner of her eye though, among the tables that had been set up for dining while the auction took place. She saw someone that she didn’t think that she would see for another couple of years. 

Albus Dumbledore was sitting at a table of what must have been other light associating wizards, perhaps more toned down pureblood families. Not to say that Larus was not one of those, considering who he was dating. But he did seem to aline more often than not with everything that did not include blood with the more gray and so-called dark wizard factions. 

As if he had a sixth sense he caught her eyes, those blue ones that had always seemed to twinkle when they were children in school, did not feel the same. Not they seemed a bit forced and while she knew some of the more questionable things that Dombledor had done in his youth because of Rita’s blasted book and a few memories, she did not think that there was anything to be wary of up until this point. Because that look reminded her a lot of Tom and the idea that Dumbledore might have very similar traits to Tom frightened her a bit more than she expected. 

Her group seemed to have caught her staring. 

“Who is that?” She decided to play dumb and turn away from the great wizard. 

“Dumbledore,” Larus explained. “You would not know him as you don’t have anyone that attends Hogwarts just yet. He’s the Transfigurations Professor currently, was at one point the dense professor, and a bloody brilliant one at that. He has come up with a lot of original spells.” 

Sara nodded. “He is known for winning the Barnabas Finkley Prize for Exceptional Spell-Casting, becoming one of the British Youth Representative to the Wizengamot, and received the Gold Medal for Ground-Breaking Contribution to the International Alchemical Conference in Cairo. All that when he was still attending Hogwarts, why he wanted to just be a professor with such skill is beyond me.”

Hermione glanced back to where the man was sitting, but he had simply vanished. Seeing him had reminded her that soon, there would be the rising of Grindelwald and the second World War and it dug deep into her chest, making it near impossible to focus on the rest of the night. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione was happy that Tom had made a friend in which to write to. Abraxas was not a bad catch considering his connections, and while he might have had terrible tastes in blood politics in the future, there was no reason that Tom could not be on good terms with him in other ways. He actually seemed to smile every once and a while when he was reading over a letter. Shani was always out when the letters were being written and Tom would communicate with the snake frequently. More so than he had before the party. Snakes could make jokes because Tom would grace her with laughter every once and a while when talking to her. 

~/*\~

Tom celebrated his eighth birthday out to eat with his mother. She had picked a nice place in Muggle London. They both spent the day going shopping at the local bookstores to pick up works that weren’t available in the Wizarding World. Tom found science fiction and horror to be rather enjoyable while his mother much preferred a well-written mystery and medical journal.

Tom wasn’t bothered by horror or things that perhaps would have bothered others. Working with his mother on making potions had numbed him from feeling much when gutting a newt or slicing things like worms into well-cut thin slices. Nothing in the books could be as gross as pulling organs out of small bodies to use in potions. He didn’t feel remotely bad for it either as he was doing things like that. It didn’t bother him when he fed Shani rats either. It did not matter if they squealed or made cries as her jaws would bite them and crush them. 

Tom did not feel anything at all. 

He knew that it was the natural order of things. It did not mean that he went out of his way to cause things pain. He did not think that torturing things was remotely a good thing to do. If death was needed for a potion, food, or otherwise he saw it as what needed to happen. There was no reason to feel sorry for acting on necessity, but one did not have to make it painful or drawn out. If he had to kill a newt, for instance, he sliced it so that it would die in seconds and would not prolong it’s suffering. 

He liked horror perhaps because of the suspense of reading something knowing things that the characters did not, and he always liked the way that monsters could take on many forms in writing. Tom liked that Horror did not shy away from the darkness that could be found in humans. Tom knew there was evil in the world and he did not like how many people pretended that it was not there. Like John was an evil little boy and no one ever did anything about it. Just like there were horrible things that had happened in wars on all sides that were brushed aside by the winners as if they never happened. 

Yes, horror to Tom was wonderful. He liked Science fiction just as well, as the inventions that Muggles had created some of them were quite interesting, and it was always interesting to see how someone would go about fighting something that was much stronger than them when they did not have things like magic to protect them. 

He had gotten a few new books that he planned on reading them on his bed with Paws curled on his lap. He liked her a bit more than Shani even though the snake was not a bad friend. He just grew tired of her negative attitude now and then. Well, that and her want to eat and bite anything that seemed like it could bother him. She had become very protective of him as she had grown.


	11. Part XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how there were warnings at the beginning of the fic. They apply to this chapter.

Hermione rolled up her selves as the heat of the potion she was brewing started to bother her. Tom was nearby with a book in his lap reading it as he balanced on the lab stool that was a tad small for him. It was another horror Novel. He was intensely reading it so that his hands were a bit shaky with anticipation. 

Paws mewed and Tom dropped the book jumping. 

Hermione chuckled a little to herself as Tom looked every which way and that before scowling down at Paws. She just jumped up onto his lap now that it was book free and demanded scratches. 

“Stupid cat,” Tom muttered but obliged her, stroking her up her neck and under her chin. Paws purred loudly. 

“What was the story this time?” Hermione sturred the potion gently clockwise. 

“I thought that you didn’t like horror.” Tom tilted his head and paused in his petting, much to Paw’s unhappiness and she nudged his hand and Tom sighed, resuming petting her. She had become quite the demanding pet after Shani seemed to steal her attention.

“I don’t mind it.” Hermione shrugged. 

It had just been to quiet down there for the past hour, not that she minded silence, but she did also enjoy listening to Tom ramble about things. Most of the time he rambled about how he had to write Walburga now because Abraxas had given her their address. And how was he supposed to respond to some of the drivel that she wrote about Hogwarts gossip he did not go there and neither did she, it was just her older cousin that did. He much like Ron did not understand girls, though Hermione was never one to really understand the need to gossip and repeat everything that others told her for Drama. That was something that people like Lavender did. 

“Well, I am reading about Wendigos from North America. It's not as much of a Horror story as it is an account that happened by the border of Canada and how one can become such a creature.” Tom smiled slightly. “The creature descriptions are pretty scary. My favorite are the ones that look like deer but have skull heads and horns. I think it would be interesting to meet one considering that they can mimic people, and change appearances to lure travels to be eaten. Do you know if such things exist?”

“I would not doubt that there are things that even us Witches and Wizards do not understand or have found yet.” Hermione admitted.”You seemed to like monsters and ghost stories a lot Tom. Do you want my creatures of the night books? They will tell you of monsters that we have been able to verify.” 

Tom nodded. “That would be good for confirmation. I mean the fictional stuff is okay, but knowing what really is out there would be pretty useful. What exists that Muggles and Wizards know about?”

“Well, most things that Muggles write about as fiction there are some that are true. Vampires, Werewolves, and Ghosts tonnage a few. I have met all of those mentioned at one time or another.”

Tom blinked. “Are the weird cures and ways to keep them away that Muggles write about remotely true?” 

He shifted in his chair to get comfortable as this conversation was probably going to be one of their longer ones.

Hermione nodded, continuing to stir. “Some of them yes. I know that werewolves do in fact not like silver, and while it really would not kill them to be shot with a silver bullet other than in parts that would kill a normal human. I can tell you that my dear friend that was diagnosed with the disease did, in fact, say that silver burned a little bit. I also know that garlic is avoided by vampires because they are allergic to it. They will not die necessarily from eating it nor will it do much to deter them if they really want to eat you, but I can say that it can make them a little ill.”

“You knew a werewolf?” Tom had forgotten about his book now and was sitting a little at the edge of the small chair.

“Yes, his name was Remus Lupin. He was a dear friend of mine, because of him I am looking into a way to cure it, or at least curb the full moon's effects.” Hemione smiled remembering the man and then frowned remembering that he was no longer with her, that his wife was killed too, and their son had been left orphaned. 

“You were friends?” Tom looked a little concerned, “aren’t they mean because of the moon, instincts?” 

“He was a kind man.” Hermione shook her head. “He was my teacher at one point, he was very good at teaching defensive spells. He just got really sick the day before the full moon, and needed to be locked away for his safety and others on the night of the full moon. In the morning he would be tired but otherwise okay after that.” 

“What happened to him?” Tom could tell that she was bothered by something. He was getting just as good at reading her as she was of reading him. 

“He died in the war, his wife was killed too.” Hermione let out a deep breath. “I thought after that, if i could help others with his ailment, then maybe people would be kinder to people like him. You know that people are unkind to things that they are scared of, and they banned him from having near any sort of work. People were very discriminatory towards people like him, and they still are.” 

“They are only dangerous under the full moon right?” Tom folded his arms, already growing thoughtful. “And they can not transmit the disease unless they are to bite someone when they are in wolf form right?” 

Hermione nodded. 

“So why is it that they are discriminated against?” Tom asked. He was being a little slower with his questioning today. 

“I would not claim to know, other than fear without rational. People also do like to hate on things that are different than them. As for Vampires, they are a little more understandably feared but they do not usually kill people at least not as much as they used to. I am sure that there are feeding accidents that happen.” Hermione always wondered how people could claim that Snape was one of those. He was in daylight quite a few times. 

“How can one tell if someone is a Vampire besides a lack of liking garlic?” Tom had the look of someone that was wondering if they needed to proof their home.

“Vampires live in colonies and tight communities. Most of the time feeding and memory modifying the person that they feed from. One does not just become a Vampire by bite, like a Werewolf, they need to drink the blood of another Vampire or be born one. I know they do not like garlic and burn in the sun, but that’s honestly about it. Again I can pass off the books to you.”

Hermione moved the potion off the heat and some of the liquid splashed on her arm. She let out a hiss and just managed to make sure that the potion made it to the tabletop before she dabbed at her arm. She had to take off the glimmer that she hid her scar behind, to really inspect the damage. 

The skin was slightly bubbled around the red letters. 

“Merlin…” She cursed. 

Tom was out of his seat and over to her side instantly. “Are you okay?” His eyes widened. “Are you bleeding?” 

Her curse scar always looked like it was scabbed over, and waited to be damaged enough to break back open. Nothing could really hurt as much as the dagger when it cut it the first time, but as it had split open a few times, it was not exactly pleasant. It was bothered and puffy by the burn but not broken open. 

“I’ll be fine.” Hermione brushed him aside so that she could get toward the sink behind her and started the water. She put her arm under the cool water. Tom peered over her shoulder, nearly in her way behind her. The worst part she could not tell how exactly concerned that he was. His look was a mix of curiosity and concern. 

“It's a word.” He realized as she shifted her arm under the water. “What is a Mudblood?” 

Hermione turned to him she said bitterly. “Don’t say that word, it's a foul terrible word.”

“It's on your arm,” Tom said quietly, shrinking a little back. 

Perhaps that had come out harsher than she wanted it to. She closed her eyes. “Yes it is, but not by my choice.” She said it softer. 

Tom moved closer and she showed him the scar. “It’s not a tattoo…” He trailed off. 

“No, it was carved there.” Hermione glanced from the wound to his face. 

“But why?” He looked disturbed. “Why is it carved into your arm?” 

He was still a child. No matter how mature that he sometimes acted. No matter how he liked to read things that were harder than that of what most 8 year old little boys could read. He was still young. So young. He gripped onto her a little as if he was doing his best to give comfort. He was not the best at this sort of thing as his feelings always seemed to be muddled or turned down low. Things that would have caused other kids to cry or scream at another, usually barely poked a reaction out of Tom. 

“Ma.” He tried again wrapping arms around her waist that he was up to her chest now. His head just under her arm. 

“It was wartime, Tom.” She put her hand on his head feeling the black locks. “We were captured...” 

Her voice faltered. He looked up at her with shiny eyes, yes they were really that way. She knew he was capable of caring for people. Even if it was sometimes really muddled. She moved towards the shelf and pulled down a salve that would help with the pain. The action made Tom let go. And he watched her bandage it. 

She had been on the tile floor screaming out, as the blade slowly sliced her skin. It had been slow, meticulous, and made so the message would be clear for all to see forever. The degrading name that people thought her to be. The word that she could not escape or rise above to those sorts of people no matter how she tried. Exceptions to the rule they called gifted Witches and Wizards like her. She let out a small tear as she finished the wrapping.

“I knew that you wore a glimmer there,” Tom said softly, he had returned to his seat on the stool but was more hunched in on himself. “I could always feel it.” 

Yes, he could feel magic stronger than most. It was why she had started him working on potions at such an early age. It taught Tom not to give in to his anger or his impulses. If he was angry and he let his magic run it would ruin his potion, if he was impulsive then he could make errors. He had learned to be patient and calculating as now he thought before he did things. He planned and controlled. While it curbed the dark magic that would lash out when he was upset it had made him more aware of others that were controlling their magic or altering their appearance with it. 

“I had no doubt that you could.” She nodded. “You are very strong and observant, more so than most.” 

“What does it mean, why does it bother you?” He looked at her with intense eyes. ‘If you don’t tell me then I will find out,’ was left unsaid but she could tell that he was thinking it. He was quite good at figuring things out. 

“A long time ago I told you that your father and I fought against Dark Wizards.” 

“Yes, and they believed things about blood.” Tom was gripping at the stool. 

“Yes, they believed that Magic should be kept in all Magic families. Pure Bloods they called themselves. The war was over that concept as some people believed that Muggle-born Witches and Wizards were simply that Witches and Wizards and some believed that Muggle Borns stole their magic, that they were a dangerous link to Muggles learning about our world. As the government would not do anything they took matters into their own hands and started killing Muggles and Muggle-borns. They would torture them, hunt them down, and murder whole families.”

Tom shifted in his seat.

“It was very dark times, the news was talking about disappearances near daily. Everyone lived in fear when they left their homes that snatchers would come and take someone that mattered to them. Your father was Muggle Born as I have mentioned before. We were scared that his family would be one of those that would be murdered. Especially as we were actively trying to stop them.” 

Lie and truth blended easily as she wove the tale that she had one day planned to tell. She needed to stay as a Half blooded Witch in order to get things done that needed to change. But that did not mean that she would forget about those that would be lost to the times. People that were like her once. 

“I obviated them, erasing all their memories of us, and sent them to live safely away from the violence. If we were to find them now your grandparents would not know who I was or who you were, or even that they once had a son. We were on the run from snatchers for months and one day they did find us.” 

“Is that how…” Tom trailed off. 

“Yes. They wanted information, and so they tortured me. They knew what your father was and what I was and they decided to carve slowly the slur and horrible way of saying a Muggle-born into my arm. Dirty blood, is what Mudblood boils down to. I have no doubt that they would have added lover under it. But your father got free, with a friend of ours and he did save me. I saved him after he was splinched by quick apparition and a few other times. But your father always had a way of getting to me when it mattered.”

“I hope they're dead.” Tom blurted. “I hope they never got to hurt anyone again.” 

His magic was even feelable in the air to Hermione that was not nearly as sensitive as most were. 

“Tom.” She warned him quietly and he seemed to realize that he was so high strung and took several calming breaths that did little to curve how upset he was, but at least there wouldn’t be anything shattering or going flying in the lab. 

“They deserve it. They hurt you. They hurt Dad. They are the reason that he is gone. People like Walburga are always thinking that they are better than people that aren’t purebloods. How do you stand it? It isn't at all true.” He shook. “How do you stand to be around people that don’t think they're as good because of that?”

“I do what I have to.” Hermione looked at him. “We live in a world with many prejudices, many things that are not fair, and not true. I do not like the Black family because of their political blood beliefs and their personalities. But they are a powerful family, and sometimes one must put down their own beliefs in order to win the long-run game. They have given me a platform and resources, and I will no longer need their influence soon and will be able to be a force of good in my own right.”

“You're playing them…” Tom looked amazed.

“Yes, but even if I do not believe what they do, I do not necessarily want them to die. The Witch that carved the word into my arm is dead. She and those like her that were doing the killing are gone. We can only combat the dark and try to make sure that it never happens again. Not by wishing people like Walburga and her mother ill, but by trying to change minds.”

He studied her and she had a feeling that he did not quite believe that it was possible to change people like Walburga and her mother.

~/*\~

Tom took a deep breath into his lungs. It was a cool day and it was very breezy. But he didn’t care. He held onto his good luck charm a small snake that Whimsy had hand-carved for him from a small crystal. It was a good day to fly and since he had gotten a real broom, he had been dying to use it and not freeze when he flew. It was not, he did not care what anyone said, all that great to fly in December. He had waited till spring. 

His mother had been waiting for this season to finish up the paperwork for her fields, as they now owned 12 acres that were covered inwards. He felt confident that no one would see him. He could always feel for the wards if he needed to. 

With that, he looked out at the rippling fields of green tall grass. The large trees of the forest were budding and a few were blooming. The cherry tree by their home was weeping petals as the wind whipped through its thin branches. 

Tom made his way a bit away from the house and the shed. He laid the broom carefully on the ground.

“Up.” He commanded and the broom flew up into his hand. The broom was smooth without all those fancy attachments for safety. He mounted it with ease. Paws watched him from the kitchen sill and he smiled at her. 

He then gave a good kick off the ground and he was up. He took the broom higher than he had ever before, up into the spring sunlight. Higher and higher until there were clouds that were around him. He could see the entirety of his home below him, and the fence looked so small in comparison to where he was. 

He smiled closing his eyes feeling the breeze sweep through his longer hair and just hovered. This was what freedom felt like. There were birds that were below him and they looked up at him from wires that ran through the countryside. 

He wondered how fast that it could go. So he leaned forward and the broom followed the command sending him forward at lightning speed so his hair whipped behind him along with his coat. He felt the wind almost freezing on his grip. He couldn't help but laugh as he descended and zoomed through the open air. He held up on the broom to turn it. The wind threw up against him and he could feel his feet slide off slightly. He quickly swooped downward again making his way over towards the clearer ground.

He rounded a tree and flew back upward so fast that he lifted off of the thing. He almost let go but tightened his grip feeling his heart racing as he slowed it down to a more manageable speed.

Laughing he checked himself over and looked around to see if anyone else had seen him. But of course, there was no one there. His smile slowly turned to a slight frown. 

He had no one to fly with. His mother was petrified of it. Whimsy could not use a broom and the only one that could probably ride with him was Shani and she was getting pretty large. 

He sighed it wasn’t like it was anything new. Tom did not have friends, after all, no matter the letters from Abraxas and Walburga. How could he like anything about them after learning what he had? It had always been annoying the whole blood thing. But now it was disgusting to him and made him angrier than anything else.

He was glad though that his mother told him these things. Her honesty meant a lot to him. She never shied away from telling him something that could be useful to know.

The wind picked up and it was just a little too cold.

~/*\~

Hermione had the next round of potions for coughs and sore throats done. Flu season was over but the stocks were low. Besides that potion that she had going, she had her Wolfbane’s potion. She had written down the recipe from one of her warded texts and was attempting to make it for the first time. It was a very complex potion, and it might take her a few times to get it to a standard that would be remotely close to something that she would want to try on another person. If it was incorrect it would be really toxic and the last thing that she wanted was to make something that would hurt the very people that she wanted to help. 

Tom was helping to chop up some of the garlic bulbs. They were going to need more bulbs to continue making the cold medicine. She sighed the cheapest place would be the grocery up the road. She was not a fan of the Shurlies. Their little boy was a real terror. But as much as she didn’t want to hand them more funds popping over to London and letting her potion be unattended did not seem like it was a good idea. The Wolfsbane was very sensitive and leaving it could ruin everything. It was a 3 day worth of brewing potion and she did not want to start all over. 

Whimsy would not be great to send as she was a bit forgetful. Tom could do it. He was 9 and could handle it. He could ride her bike there; it wouldn’t be more than 20 minutes there and another 20 back. Or if he was worried about that he could have Whimsy pop him close to town and then he could get what was needed and to a secluded area and pop back. 

“Tom, I need you to go into town and get more garlic bulbs. We are going to need them to continue the cold potions and I have my experimental one running.” She glanced up from her work to make sure that he had heard her, he could get absorbed and when that happened well there was no telling if he had actually heard or not. 

He put down his knife. “Okay.” He did not sound thrilled but he knew that someone had to watch the potion and that Whimsy would be starting to cook dinner.

“You can take the bike, it will make it faster and the basket can hold the shopping bags or you could have Whimsy pop you closer and walk back to a remote location to call her to take you home.” 

He sighed and held out his hand for the proper coins. “I’ll ride, I hate apparition. If we lived near a wizarding town I could fly over.” 

She ignored his little barb, she had chosen this location to be safe from the airstrikes that would happen in a few years, and to be away from annoying noisy neighbors. 

“Stick to the main roads then.” She handed him the amount. “And come straight back I will need them in a few hours.”

He nodded again making his way up the stairs. Hermione turned back to her work as she heard the door to the back creaking open and then shutting.

~/*\~ 

“Garlic,” Tom muttered to himself as he pulled the bike that his mother lent him from the shed. It was probably the only thing that the Muggles near them had that could be considered remotely useful. They had stopped visiting town as much having created a greenhouse that grew most of their potion ingredients and food. There were better places to buy meat and other perishables. 

He guessed that he should be happy that with the bike he would be relatively fast going past the corner of the property where their land met John’s. Tom really did not like that boy. The last time that they had interacted, Tom had told him that if he tried again to slip his hand into his mother’s bag he would break it. He had done so loud enough to be overheard by the man’s father and his mother. It probably had not been a good day to be John, but then Tom would never want to be that kid. The thought was so revolting that it made him slow in his pedals momentarily.

Still, if he got a beating it would have served him right for trying to steal. They were already swindling his mother out of her money with some of the rotten goods that had bugs that could be found deeper into their one-pound bags of things like flour. 

He made his way quickly around the tree and down towards town. He could see out of the corner of his eye by the pond John and his friend were in the weeds, and not wanting to be seen by them. He sped down the path. 

Now Tom didn’t fancy himself a coward, but John was 5 years older than him, and a lot bigger. His friends were just as massive and when they were out and about unsupervised Tom wanted nothing to do with them, as he was sure that John would want nothing better than to even the score. 

He got the garlic easily and made sure to inspect the bulbs that he was given. He did not want there to be any that were funny looking because they would only serve to rot whatever ever else that they had and would ruin any potion that they were added into by accident. Once he was satisfied he paid John’s mother who commented that she wished that her son looked half as cute as he did.

Tom had awkwardly accepted the compliment but felt that there was no hope for John to have looks between both of his parents. Tom was quite happy that his father was okay looking form the black and white photos that he had seen and with the combination of his mother who he found to be pretty he had come out half decent. 

He loaded the bike’s basket with the two large bags. He tried them tightly shut and balanced them so that they would not tumble out on the turns or because of the bumps. He really wished that he was on his broom, as he made his way out of town. It would have made it easy to see around the woody bends as he would be high above them. 

When he had a wand of his own, perhaps he could cast disillusionment charms like he had read about and fly to pick things up. He would easily be able to find a place to hide and cast the spells and fly home. Why it would save him an incredible amount of time, considering that he could not apparate. 

He took the bend a bit too strong and the bump made the bike jerk and he had to stop so that he wouldn’t fall into the ditch at the side of the road. He could see John and all of his friends. They had fishing poles and now were settled on the beach. There was no way that they would not see him the second that he pedaled into the open. 

He bit his lip trying to think and catch his breath so if he had to break the sound barrier to get back behind the wards that made up their land he would be able to make it. They were talking about what he was not sure but they had something in buckets and when one of them took small shapes out he knew instantly what they were frogs. 

Why would they have so many little frogs?

The boy that was closest to John, a red-headed boy that Tom had heard be called Ralph on occasion, took his handful and threw it out into the water. Then the other boy that Tom did not know did as well. They were croaking and he could hear slashes as the fish ate them. They were scooping the ones that had made it back to shore up again and chucking them deeper. This went on for what felt like minutes and Tom just could not understand what he was witnessing for the life of him. 

Why would anyone do that?

Why?

How could they be laughing? 

He was brought to his senses when one of them turned and his eyes met John’s. The teenager smiled with that large smile that was missing a couple of teeth. He brushed back his matted brown hair and pointed right at Tom. 

“Hey, if it isn’t the little freak. Come to watch?” He was making his way closer, and if they were able to get around him or block the path there was no way that he would be able to get around them, and certainly would not be able to outrun them if he lost the bike. 

“Now don’t be like that, we only want to talk don’t we.” 

One of his friends laughed. 

Tom put himself back right on the road and shoved off as they started to come up after him. He paddled hard and he could hear them starting to chase after him. The cheer from John and the other boys scared him, as they seemed to chant excitedly as they gave chase about a freak hunt. 

Tom was fast, he was pulling ahead of them, even though they had longer legs, Tom had wheels that helped to gain momentum and could glide quickly down the hill. If he could make it around the bend then it was less than a half-mile shot to the wards. 

He felt a rock hit his arm and he almost lost balance. The two minions if anything had stopped and he no longer could see them as he took a sharp turn around the bend, but not John he was still running after him and as he looked back he hit a bumpy patch in the road and went over the handlebars as the tire just stopped completely and he went flying. 

He hit the ground hard. 

There was a crunch that was the bike hitting the nearby tree. 

His head was spinning. 

The first thing he noticed was that the bloody Garlic was running this way and that. 

He sat up and could feel a sharp pain and when he looked down he saw that his arm was bleeding and the pain really started to register as he attempted to get up. His knee was pretty damaged too. 

His feet almost gave out on him as he stood. 

And the way that his head was a bit fuzzy maybe he had hit that too, now that he thought about it. It really took him another agonizing 30 seconds to remember just what he had been fleeing from and by that time John was there and towering over him. 

He took a step back and felt his foot roll on one of the Garlic bulbs and he crashed down hard again. 

“You know you really are pathetic.” John kicked him hard in the chest. “You’re family lives on the worst piece of land that this community has to offer and you and your bitch of a mother still have the nerve to look down on us.” 

Tom felt his magic starting to surge up around him, but he did not know what to do with it. His mother had not trained him with anything but trying to filter an outburst of it. He blocked the next kick with his arms as he attempted to sit up. He could hear footsteps coming down the hill, soon they wouldn’t be alone anymore. He cried out as John stepped onto his hand hard with possible pressure enough to break some of his fingers. 

He felt cornered. 

What would Shanti do? 

What would his mother do?

John was kneeling on his damaged leg and he cried out as the heavy weight pressed down on it. He could only try to try to cover his face and neck; those were some of the most vital parts of him. John grabbed his arm though and twisted it. 

“But I know what you are. I know that you're just a freak, a sinner and that people like you that don’t go to services, that don’t ask for forgiveness for how they've been acting are going to rot in hell. But don’t worry I know how to fix you.” 

He had a blade, it glittered in the afternoon sun. “They say that the best way to make attunements is with repenting and the second is begging for forgiveness.”

Tom froze looking at it and then something just snapped as he was not going to let that knife touch him. 

His mother’s scar entered his head in a flash. He would not be punished for something like not going to those crazy seeming church services, and he would not be told about how his mother and him were freaky... 

And so Tom started to flail and punch and kick. He slammed a bit with his magic against the larger boy. He felt the grip on his arm loosen because John certainly had not expected it. He managed to get one of his feet up and slam it into John's crotch reign and he howled. Tom bit him on the arm and scratched him in the face. He didn’t feel the punches all that much that were directed at him.

His knuckles hurt and he managed to get free and started running as fast as he could, his knee throbbed and his arm hurt. 

It was not that far…

He had to make it. 

He was knocked off his path and back by a strong force. The other boys it seemed had caught up and had been watching perhaps till they needed to step in. The black brown-haired one that had no name grabbed both of his arms and yanked him up so that his feet were dangling and no matter how he kicked or thrashed they did not let go. 

John was bleeding, Tom had gotten him good in the face. He felt a little bit satisfied seeing it, considering what the other had said and what he had done. He was red, redder than a tomato and Tom could see a few of the veins throbbing in his neck and forehead. 

“I am going to gut you.” He bit out. “Hold him still.” 

His magic was going crazy, growing and circling around him. The redhead might have even felt it because he stepped away. Tom could feel it latching out around him, darkened shadows were dancing on the pavement. They were almost like vines that were stretching out from his shadow. 

He could picture Paws laying on the ground bleeding. 

He promised himself that he wouldn’t do that again.

That he wouldn’t hurt another animal without reason. 

But they were really going to hurt him...

That had to be a reason...

And they were not animals. 

And so as John dared to come closer, Tom let go of his magic. He let it do what it needed to, without holding back, he shoved it forward and it slammed into Ralph sending him flying a good 20ft away, he hit a tree and there was a horrid cracking sound. The boy that was holding him let go, but as Tom whirled away from him and he let the magic that had thrown the other turn and fling itself at him too. He was not as lucky as Ralph to be hurled sideways, he went up and then landed onto the hard dust ground Tom saw him bleeding. 

John swung at him with the knife, it nicked his arm as he brought it up again to block and he felt it bite into his flesh. He felt the blood start to pour out of the wound and he closed his eyes crying out for what he did not know and John just vanished. 

He was gone and it was like he had never been there at all. There was no blood. There was no clothes, no hair, no blade. And perhaps what terrified Tom to his very core was that he was glad that the other was gone. That he did not feel anything for the boy that was crying next to him bleeding. Or the one that looked as if they would never get up again. No like the times with the animals that he had to use for potions, or to feed Shani and Hoots the owl, or the chickens that he helped Whimsy prepare for dinner, he felt nothing. 

And that was what made him vomit on the ground. He covered his mouth after he was done.

What was wrong with him... 

How could he not feel anything...

He suddenly felt incredibly drained. It could have been all the magic built up being used so quickly and violently but it could also have been the large very nasty cut on his forearm. 

He staggered on his feet, he barely was able to call out the one word that would save him.

“Whimsy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank You all for your positivity and love for this fic it is a bit overwhelming and just so wonderful!


	12. Part Xll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings still apply! ಥ_ಥ

Hermione stepped out of the basement, it was near time for dinner and yet Whimsy was not in the kitchen. There was food still in the pots that were set on low on the stovetop. She looked left and then right and it did not seem like she was in any of the other rooms either. It was strange and as if her house was completely empty. 

And Tom was not back yet... 

The house was eerily quiet as the only sound was that of Paws walking back and forward along the window sill by the back door. Her tail brushed against the dried ingredients that were hanging near there. Hermione stepped out onto the back porch. She could easily wait out there for them. The sky was darkening and the wind had picked up, stuttering the remaining petals of her cherry tree. The old wood creaked under her feet. She had a bad feeling. Even though there was nothing to pinpoint why she should be feeling that. The potions were going well. 

There was a pop and Whimsy was right in front of her. The old elf stumbled as it looked up at her. The green large eyes of the house-elf were wet and shiny. She was making a horrible sound, one that reminded her so very much of Dobby when the elf would get over-emotional and would cry so much that his throat would make a croaking sound. 

“Come….” she croaked. “Please. Quickly.” 

She reached up her wrinkly hand and Hermione took it. There was a pop and she was taken to a space that was alongside the road. The grass was taller and wet. She could feel it against her legs that were not covered but her skirt. 

The first thing she noticed was the smell of blood. One might not think that blood had an order but it did. It always smelt of metal, iron and rust. She had spent all her time in the hospital after the war, but even during it she was used to it. She could taste the iron as she bit her lip. 

Her world was frozen in time. It was like she was back to the days of Snatchers and Death Eaters. Where bodies were waiting rotting and hidden. Where snakes were waiting to shed human skin costumes.

It was like a war zone, it was like the battle of Hogwarts where they would keep pulling bodies from the rubble, young and old. And yes even children and that is what she could see now that she was standing there on that quiet country dirt road. 

To her left there was a boy sobbing on the ground he was the miller's son, Adrian. His collar bone was snapped and was sticking out of its protective sleeve of skin and muscle. He was shaking on the ground and his leg was twisted funnily to the side. To the far side of her there was Ralph who’s skull looked to have been crushed and caved in by the impact of him hitting the large oak tree. There was a stain against the bark and he was slumped forward revealing the damage, and unmoving. 

And in the middle of the road was Tom. His blood decorated the dirt road in a little puddle. It was not hard to piece together a scene. She did not have to search anyone’s memory for it. The bike was in the ditch, the frame was bent and there were garlic bulbs everywhere. They had attacked Tom of that she was sure. 

Her gut twisted horribly.

And so her limbs finally came to life and she was able to move. She was able to rush to Tom’s side. She first checked over him with her wand and cast some of the few mending spells that she had learned. She was going to need some of her potions. His left hand that was his dominant at one looked like the pinkie was broken. He had bad scrapes from the fall and bruises that were swelling around his face. 

She surprised herself with the growl that left her throat. She ignored the cry’s of the boy that were getting louder. As he might have been in shock but he could see Whimsy and he sure as hell could see Hermione. The mother of the person that they had dared to hurt. 

“Whimsy bring me the medical potion kit from the bathroom and then bring me the wand in my bedroom drawer.” 

Whimsy bowed. “Right away.” 

There was a loud crack that sounded much like that of the thunder that was threatening overhead with a possible storm. She brushed her fingers gently over his face. He did not stir. Healing magic was based on the core energy of a person, and Tom had used a lot of magic. It stuck to the air like a thick cloud. One that was potent and saturated with dark magic, magic manifested out of fear, anger, and the need to survive. 

“I’ll fix it.” She said quietly. She didn't know if he could hear her but she meant it. She would fix this. For what she was about to do, may gods or fate have mercy on her soul. She had long ago decided that she would take care of Tom and that she would protect him. She had made him a promise years ago after the first incident and arguably the worst until this one. 

````“I will help to teach you magic, and even if you do accidental magic that breaks things or injures others. I will still love you. I will always love you and I will keep helping you until you can control it.`````

And she loved Tom still, more so than ever. He was her little boy and these children had thought to maim him, possibly kill him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held it and felt it fill her being before she released it slowly as to clear everything out. It was horrible that she could hardly feel anything for the boy that was crying next to her or the one that was against the tree. 

Maybe it was war that could be blamed for numbing her, or maybe it was the fact that all she could muster was extreme anger that humans could care so very little for each other. Those 2 boys that were much larger than her Tom would think that it would be a good idea to cut him so deeply with a knife. 

The anger though had little where it could go. The one was dead and the other had suffered greatly. The only other place that it could be placed was on herself. As she was the one that had sent him out. She had felt safe here. Never had she imagined that anything such as this would happen. Many kids that were Tom’s age had jobs, they had internships and apprenticeships. And she had felt safe and comfortable with their small town where nothing ever happened. She should have known. Things never were simple, and she should have known that eventually something bad would happen.

She smoothed his hair, his eyes opened slowly, those brown ones looked up into hers. Yes even if they were not truly from her, it was one of the things that they had in common. She smiled weakly at him. 

“It will be okay.” She said assuringly to him, she would make it okay again. Whimsy came back in a loud crack that echoed again around the empty road. Hermione took the bag from Whimsy and pulled out one of the potions that would mend the bones in his hand and help with pain. She also pulled out the one that would help with loss of blood. She sat him up slowly. “Take this and drink all of it.” 

Tom followed the instruction without question. He drank the first one and made a slight gagging noise. 

“I know the blood regeneration potion really doesn’t taste good.” She said softly and hated the way that he had tears in his eyes as he swallowed down the second. 

“It will help your hand, and with the pain.” She assured him his fingers curled around the vile. His bad one brought closer to himself. His eyes shifted to the scene around him and he made another gagging noise. 

She rubbed his back. “It's okay.” She said again. “Whimsy will take you home and I will take care of this.” 

His grip on her tightened, he didn’t say anything. 

She took in another deep breath. “I will be back soon. You need to sleep, and I will be there when you wake. The potions are going to feed off your reserve magic and help use that to heal you. It’s going to put you to sleep. You don’t want to sleep here Tom.” 

His eyes shut momentarily only to be opened again and then slowly drift shut again. She waited until he was dead weight and sleeping till she nodded to Whimsy. “Please take him home and put him to bed. I will be home soon.” 

“Mistress…” Whimsy looked a little concerned over the scene. 

“Just take him Whimsy.” She gently shifted Tom over to the elf that was a lot shorter than the boy now. She cradled his head and she was gone with another pop. 

Yes there was only one thing to be done, cover everything up. 

She stood next to the boy that must have been at most 14. He looked at her with wide and horrified eyes as she held up Bellatrix's wand and pointed it at his face. If she was going to alter memories, vanish bodies, and clear a crime scene then there was no way that she wanted to have the Ministry able to check the history of spells on her wand. But first she had to know exactly what had taken place, and then she could alter the boy that had survived memories accordingly. 

“Legilimens.” 

~/*\~

After cleaning everything up from patching and weaving a believable memory into Adrian’s head, she had vanished the body that had been against the tree and got rid of any blood evidence. She had even accioed every last garlic bulb to vanish them and her bike. She left nothing that could implicate her Tom. Nothing that could land him, even if it was defense in Azkaban for killing 2 Muggles. Yes, Hermione was very painfully aware of the person that started it all, John. He had pushed Tom to the breaking point and where his magic had lashed out in self-defense. He deserved far worse than being vanished. 

Maybe that should scare her, and tell her that her moral compass had been spun in the wrong direction, but a quick and painless vanishing charm seemed too good for him. She supposed if she was going to get technical parts of John still existed as a vanishing spell could not make the matter of an object become nothing entirely, Matter became Matter even if it was in a different form after all and there was a conservative rule where it was concerned. Not that she really wanted to kill him. Some sort of painful lesson maybe and some memory altering to ensure that he was scared of them, and never thought to harm another person ever again. 

But things were not that way. And she felt the rain start to fall in small droplets that soon became heavier as she picked up her vials that she had used both on Tom and on Adrian. She held the last glass bottle in her hand a moment longer looking at the last residue of one of her stronger and very time-consuming potions. The last silver drop of it as the rain started to streak against the glass. That was how very close she had come to losing Tom again… 

He held on by another thread that could have snapped. She very well could have lost everything again. And she felt so very tired kneeling there. This was what it had all come down to. Another time, another place, but still the immense evil in the world. Evil that would be rising and sending people off to die, in yet another war, fought again over things that could have been avoided if people were simply able to treat each other fairly and with kindness. And while Hermione had always thought herself a realist, that held onto faint traces of hope that humanity could be more, could be better. She was at a loss, because at the moment it felt that there was nothing really salvageable when even children wanted to kill other children. 

~/*\~ 

She was soaked when she appeared on the front porch of the cottage. The sky overhead crackled and lightning flashed. It was an odd mix of color as the sun was setting in the distance where it almost looked lighter, but over her home was a dark angry purple-gray. She rang out her robe and her skirt a little bit before she cast the drying spell having made it a safe distance underneath the overhang. She looked out at the fields momentary as it felt like the quiet that she had heard earlier was disturbed by the loud and angry sounds of the wind scraping the branches of her tree against her house, and the wail that came from the grasses as they bent. 

She entered her home and made her way up the stairs. Tom’s room was open and facing them. It had always brought her joy to be able to look in there from the halfway mark and catch him moving around in there. He used to read aloud to Paws and she would sit there and listen knowing the second that she turned the corner he would have stopped. 

For some sort of reason that moved her to the point of near tears because Tom did not do that anymore. He was more reserved, and practical. It had been as if his imagination had really went away before he was even 6. There was less wonder in the world for him now, things were based on potions and preparation for school. 

And she faulted holding on the stairwell railing. Things had changed and she feared that they would change again. She feared what would become of her Tom because of this. 

Because of her growing comfortable... 

Because she thought that she could have something good and nothing would happen because of it. 

Things had been going so well, and she rubbed at her face, drying her tears quickly as she did so, as to make no sound. Because Tom did not need to see her crying. He did not need to see her breaking down in the hallway up to his room. 

She had to be the strong one. She really did. She felt like she had always had to be that one. She had to be strong and comforting for Harry when Ron had left them. She had to be strong when she had been hunting for the rest of the Horcruxes and while fighting a snake. She had to be strong when Ron died and the world had been shattering, because she had needed to force herself back onto shaking legs. And no matter what hardship she had faced in the past she had always put on a very brave face and pressed on. 

She had little time to be vulnerable because she had no one that she trusted enough to truly be vulnerable with. The only one that she had was Tom and she did not discuss her worries with him about anything that she did not wish to burden him with. He was a little boy and he should not have to think about the what-ifs that were involved with war, time travel, and politics. Little boys should be playing on their brooms and spending time with friends. They did not deserve to have fears about going dark, or have to try to control their magic. Tom didn’t deserve any of it, and in his past timeline, she wondered just how much he had suffered before he had bent and broke. And she dare not think it but she wondered how many hard balls life would throw at her Tom before he had a similar mortality. 

She could only try. 

She had to try. 

She had to keep him safe. 

For the briefest of moments she considered erasing the memory from him. He would not need to feel any pain for doing something he so clearly had not wanted to do. But it was a selfish thought, for she did not have the right to take that from him. She did not have the right to choose on what memories that he had and did not have. She wanted to be as truthful with him as she could be, and that would be the biggest violation possible of it. 

Even if it would have made everything easier, it in no way was the correct choice. 

She rose all the way up the stairs. She took one of the hairpins out of her hair and transformed it into a small wooden chair that she sat by the bed. Tom was still sleeping and she dared not touch him in case he woke up. He needed to sleep and she had promised to be there. 

She held her knees and did her best to block out the monsoon of emotions that were welling up inside her, no matter how she shoved at them using ever block that she knew to dam it all away a few more tears did slip out of her eyes as she sat there in the dim bedroom lighting with the only sound being the breathing of her injured child she failed to protect and the sound of the rainstorm outside.

~/*\~ 

Tom opened his eyes and tried to move with a feeling that was much like he had fallen wrong off of his broom. He was stiff and his body ached. He turned his head and he could see his mother sitting there in the chair, in the dim lighting he could make out her shining eyes. 

He hated it when she cried especially because she always tried to keep it from him. Of her many wonderful qualities, taking care of herself was not one of them. She was always trying to make sure that he was doing well and in doing that she would neglect herself. And by the way that she was sitting with her hands holding her knees and the rigidity of her back, he knew how uncomfortable and worried that she was. 

He was tired. 

Very tired. 

There was a bright flash of lighting that made his room glow for a brief second and then there was a harsh thunder that rattled the windows. The light left them again bathed in darkness and the rainwater slapped the pains that were still shaking and the house seemed to rumble with the ferocity of the storm as it gave another loud grumble. 

His mother leaned forward in her seat a little and he could feel her eyes on him. They sat in silence because neither of them seemed to know what to say. Tom didn’t know what to tell her, and she just looked concerned. 

“I am sorry…” She said softly and for some reason that made him so very angry. She hadn’t done anything. She had sent him to do a job that he should have been capable of doing. Something that he had failed in as the bulbs had gone every which way. She had no way of knowing what would have happened. Tom had never thought that it would get any worse than possibly getting punched a few times.

“I am so… deeply... sorry.” She repeated brokenly. “I should not have sent you out alone. I should have created something to help you, a notice me not on the bike or a portkey or something in case it went all wrong and got bad.” 

He couldn’t take it. “Shut up!” He closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears. “You didn’t know… you couldn’t have known.” 

He dared to open his eyes as a flash brightened the room again and his mother was now sitting on the bed to be closer to him. Her hand was outstretched towards him, yet she did not bring it down like she normally would have done to his head to mess up his hair. 

“It is my job to protect you.” She said softly. “And keep you safe.” 

And she did. 

She made a cure to help him. 

She had taught him every single thing he knew about potions and potion safety. 

She protected him from his own mistakes that could have backfired in the lab and burned him.

She made sure that he didn’t wander into the woods and get lost. 

She caught him when he fell off his real broom when learning to fly it.

She even blocked rain for him with an umbrella on their trips to the Wizarding World. 

She did everything that she could for him and Tom felt just a bit bad that he could not even remotely give back to her for all that she did for him. She didn’t have to care about him as much as she did. Especially when he argued with her over things, or pushed her patience with him with endless questions. Some that were noisy and manipulative. 

Tom only could say that he loved her. No other person or thing came close to the care that he felt about her, and he could not even really name a time that he had actually told her that. He could not actually name one occasion where he had really truly told her what she meant to him. And he could only name a couple of times that he had actually thanked her for taking care of him or loving him so much.

He felt tears prick his eyes. “It’s not your fault, you always blame yourself for things that you couldn’t have helped.” 

He moved back so that he was on the edge of his bed and patted it. She shook her head making a soft sound that was a mix of a sigh and something else. “Tom.” 

It had been a long time since he had saught her comfort out. He was getting used to the idea of nightmares, and not needing to crawl into her bed to feel safe. But even if it was childish. Even if it was stupid. He really really wanted that closeness so he patted it again not knowing how else to hint at it without flat out telling her. 

But she was smart. 

She was the smartest person besides himself that he knew. 

And like most things he did that no one else would know what he meant or what he was conveying without saying anything. She understood. She understood like always. 

She laid down on her side and he moved so that she could be holding him. Her heartbeat was soothing. He could feel her breath as it moved in and out. The hot air he could feel on the top of his head and the rhythmic breaths were relaxing. Her fingers were pressed into his back and he could feel the bones to her elbow under him. 

After everything it made it clear that she still loved him. Even after everything that he had done she had kept her promise to him. 

She did not even seem mad at him… 

In words that were indescribable he felt a wave of safety, being locked there in her arms. It was so comforting just to be held. And it caused him to finally break down and just start sobbing as the day caught up with him. And the sins of what he did snuck into the front of his brain. 

He had not meant to, but they were dead because of him.

But she still held him. She did not do anything other than hold him, she knew that words were meaningless at the moment so she did not try. Nor did she try to stop him from letting it all out. 

She held him even after the sounds were sniffles and he fell back asleep to the sound of rain, his mother’s breathing and heartbeat. 

~/*\~ 

In the morning Hermione still held her son. He was awake and she was awake, but they were still intertwined in a protective embrace on her end and a need for comfort hold from Tom. Eventually, though he did pull away, and she missed the weight and warmth near instantly. Because there was a need for her to just hold him, never let go and to never let him out of her sight. 

He blinked at her, and in the morning sun she could see that the bruising had healed nicely and if it were not for the bags under his eyes one never would have known that anything had happened the day before. But Hermione did know and that was what made her reach out again just to pat his head to make sure that he really was there. 

“Good morning.” He said softly. 

“Good morning.” She repeated the sentiment. 

Tom got up slowly, sitting up and adjusting the stuffed cat back to its place on the pillow. Paws jumped down off of the side of the bed and Shani hissed from under the bed and slithered out. Her albino body shining in the small sun patch created by the windows. There were still droplets visible on the frame and the dull color of the sky threatened another storm. 

“I do want to talk about yesterday.” She reluctantly said not wanting to break the sort of peace that was established in the air. “But not till after breakfast.” 

Tom did not seem bothered by that. His face was unreadable for a second with the hair that was in front of it. He was quiet a beat more before nodding. “I want to talk about it…” 

Breakfast was simple English Muffins that were toasted, buttered, and covered in a jam that Whimsy had made. 

It was silent. 

Hermione looked out the wide kitchen window at the field and Tom looked over the Daily Profitt. He flipped absentmindedly though it in a manner that told Hermione that he was not actually reading anything in it. Just bouncing between the headlines and busying his hands with the flipping of the pages. 

Their talk was hard on both ends. Tom seemed very bothered by the fact that Hermione was not upset with him because he could not bring himself to feel bad for what he had done. It became clear to her that Tom was deeply disturbed by the fact that he could not feel anything bad about killing another human being. He understood what he had done was in self-defense, he understood that it was not his fault. But he was upset at the fact that he did not feel guilty for taking another person's life. He made the argument that a normal person should have at least felt something. If not for the person they killed but for the family that would miss them. 

Hermione had been very insistent that while it was not exactly ‘normal’ there where people like him. That even if he perceived that as something wrong with him. She did not. She loved him very deeply and she promised him that nothing like this would ever happen again. She would be teaching him how to cast defensive spells, so should anyone ever attack him again. If he ever found himself in a dangerous situation, he would be able to stop the person without killing them and get away. 

It was a very rough couple of weeks that followed their discussion of the incident. Tom had nightmares and he would crawl into bed with her more often than not. Which caused the many animals to come creeping into her room as well. Shani had hung herself from the large pulls that went up at the foot of her bed. And Paws had laid on her head. 

She lived in a bit of fear that the Ministry would come knocking on her door and demand an explanation but none of that happened. She secured Tom a temporary wand from Knockturn alley and started him with Lumos as a way for him to see in the dark if he should ever find himself in a darkened place. She then taught him, Alohomora, as to unlock himself from a locked room. She waited till he got better at that before moving onto very basic shielding charms. 

Tom was very gifted and a fast learner. She had little doubt that he would seem like a prodigy when he did eventually get his Hogwarts letter and went to school. 

~/*\~ 

Tom sat out in the grass that was taller than him if he were to sit down in it. Shani was now 6ft long and was much larger than him. She was as thick as his leg and her eyes were as large as a small coin. She sunk herself in the grass so that even with her unique coloring she was near invisible. 

~You need to learn how to strike, and hide.~ She had told him. And while Shani was not magical in the sense she could teach him of spells to defend himself, she did teach him to slink about and how to be light on his feet. They would play hide and seek out in the tall grass, he would have to guess what way she was coming and spot her before she was to get the jump on him. If she did land she would tangle him tight in her coils until he either gave up or was able to wrestle her off of himself. 

Today was no exception, though he felt like letting her coil around him so that she was comfortable and laying her head upon his. She paused in their game and he looked at her confused, she liked usually teasing him about the hold.

~Who is that?~ She hissed as she rose up further and Tom blinked confused. 

~Who is Who?~ He hissed back looking about. He had to stand so that he would be as tall as her as she was using him to get higher and there was nothing he could see around him but the tall grass. The second he stood he could see a man. He was at their side gate by the road. 

He should not have been able to do that. 

There were wards in place. 

Fear made him shiver as if it was cold, but the air was warm on this Summer day. Who was this man? He had a beard and strange clothes that were bright against the green hills by their home. He stood out with his longer hair and strange scarf. He looked over at Tom and he bolted for the house needing to warn his mother as the man continued as if not bothered walking towards the back door.

Tom rounded the house and made it through the front door, Shani weighing him a bit down as he ran. 

His mother was already at the back though, she was standing there with her wand pointed at the stranger. 

“Get out of my house.” She hissed at him. 

“I don’t mean you any harm.” The man said nicely, as if he had not just barged in. 

“You dismantled my wards to break into my home somehow I doubt that.” His mother responded coldly not at all dropping her guard. “What do you want, Dumbledore?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favorite chapter I have written in a long time (even across multiple works.) I love imagery and I got to write a lot of that and draw out key moments.


	13. Part Xlll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one took a bit longer than I thought probably because of the craziness of the virus in my state and country. I did not want to stock up, but well I had to go like 6 places for basic needs lol. 
> 
> Onto the chapter!

Hermine was reading an old book from the days that were long before Tom. A classic that had in her childhood sparked a sense of wonder. Middle Earth had been a place with dragons, dwarfs, magic, and crazy plans. The Hobbit was an oldie but a goodie as her mother had read it to her and her father would listen along with her on the sofa or on her bed. Her mother had been a great storyteller, something that Hermione had wanted to be for Tom when he was younger, and while she had not got the voices quite down for some of the books that she had read she was sure that they had turned out alright. 

She turned the old pages and straightened the fold that was at the chapter mark. Her mother had always stopped after a single chapter, which was okay because each one felt like it was part of its very own adventure. She wondered if Tom now that he was a bit older would enjoy reading the book over for himself. 

She every so often looked up to look for Tom’s head when he stood up from where he was playing. She would wait till she saw his back hair against the tall grass and then would relax enough to return to her book. She trusted him to stay behind the wards now more than ever, but it did not make it easy letting him out of her sight. 

She had tried to curb the need to be close to Tom as he needed his own space in which to grow and process things. But she would be lying if she said that it was not hard. It was so very hard to let him go off by himself knowing what had happened to him. It ate her inside sometimes to think that she had almost lost him and such a thing could happen again it should not, but it could. Hermione was not one to be paranoid but she felt that she just could not make the world safe enough for Tom. And knew full well that it was pointless to try as safeguarding him like some helicopter parent would not exactly help Tom grow either. She could just try to make what could be made safe and make it so that he could protect himself.

She sipped her Tea that Whimsy had made her the old elf had retreated to her room with one of the radios and her knitting needles. She had taught herself from the many books that Hermione had and was now spending whatever free time she was granted besides her days off knitting blankets and all sorts of little sweaters for herself.

Tom disappeared again into the grass and she wondered if Shani had caught him again. She did not really like snakes. She did her best to hide it from Tom. He was so infatuated with his that she felt that denying him a friend that he could talk to really would have been a sin. Since the incident, they had been spending more time together. Tom said that Shani was teaching him how to defend himself. To someone that did not speak snake, it looked at times like Shani would eat him. The way that she coiled around him and tightened down. The snake never did leave marks though and never seemed to actually hurt him. 

Hermine let them play. She might have had flashbacks when Shani would lunge forward or more too quickly. She might have sometimes flinched when she heard the snakes very loud hiss respond to Tom’s more quiet ones, but she knew that for some reason the snake was what was making him smile as of late. He was doing better. It had taken nearly 2 months but he did not come to her bed from nightmares anymore and was not as bothered talking about how he was feeling. Shani helped in ways that Hermione could not and so she at least had to like the snake and trust it for that. Even if she did not think she would ever get used to its hisses. 

Tom started running toward the house. Bolting like all of hell was chasing after him. Shani was still latched on and was bouncing as he ran as fast as he could up towards the front of the house. She stood wondering what had him so spooked and looked out the window scanning the area that was hidden from her seated position. There was someone moving across the shorter grass that made up their yard. The slightly silver hair mixed with brownish-black were bright against the red robes that the individual was wearing. 

No…

No one should have been able to get past her wards, she had done every single one that she knew short of making a secret keeper to the location using a Fidelius Charm. Well that and blood wards, she had not wanted to get into trying to dismantle them for the rare times that she needed to have people come to her home. 

At first that she thought that it was someone from the Ministry finally figuring out that the 2 disappearances in the area might have been caused by magic. If one really was to search for traces they might have been able to find some residue from Tom’s magic flair. Not everything, after all, could be cleaned away, most yes, but not all. It would require them to figure out the location though, and there was no real way that they would find it unless they were to know of the exact spot that it had happened. There was no tracing spell that would be great enough to point to the location after so much time unless someone was standing right on top of the place that Tom had been bleeding out when they cast it.

They also wouldn’t have had anything to stand on. Hermione had done her research. She had made herself prepared, but no one had come. 

She narrowed her eyes squinting trying to see who this person was. The outline was familiar, she knew this man now that he turned and his face was visible as he got closer. It was Albus Dumbledor…

How was it that he was here?

More importantly why was he here?

There was no way that he was part of the investigations…

No, there was no way that he could know…

And yet he was making his way up to her door. She drew her wand as the door was knocked on. She waved her hand and the door opened. She planned on talking to him outside her home. But he took that as an invitation to step into the frame. 

“Get out of my house.” She hissed at him. She would not have him in her house. No matter his reason for being here, friend or foe, he had established himself as a danger as he had forced his way onto her property. 

“I don’t mean you any harm.” The man said nicely as if he had not just barged in. He had soft blue eyes. They twinkled much like they had when she was a little girl going to Hogwarts for the first time and watching him excitedly from her seat at the Gryffindor table. 

She felt a slight push at her mind looking at those eyes, but she broke the contact. She had practiced shielding her mind from the very first day that she had settled into the cottage. She had fears that one day someone would try to peer in and see what she really was. And if they knew that she was a time traveler, there could be an unfathomable amount of consequences. 

She did not know how strong they were, but he did seem to note her push back as his eyes were not as shiny as they were before. 

“You dismantled my wards to break into my home somehow I doubt that,” Hermione said coldly, keeping her wand even more straight and pointed at him now. “What do you want, Dumbledore?” 

She expected something other than a blink in response, it seemed that his eyes had looked past her and to her son that had stopped dead in his tracks. He was watching them with intense brown eyes, she blocked the old man’s view from him. There was no way he would be poking in Tom’s head. 

“Shall I repeat myself.” She said a bit louder and no less as harshly. “What do you want? You worked hard to breach my wards. Commendable really, but I had them up for a reason and unless you make your reason very clear and something very sensible I will be sending Whimsy to fetch someone to arrest you for trespassing.” 

Her heart was starting to speed up as she had little that she really could do if the man was to use his magic. He was a lot older, his magic core was greater, and he while not having the elder wand certainly had one on himself and as one of the best duelers that was ever to exist there was not much hope for her in a fight with him. 

“I just wish to talk.” Dumbledore held up his hand as if he was going to push it up against her wand tip. 

“Talk then.” She narrowed her eyes. 

“I do believe that there have been some magical disturbances in the area.” He looked at her cooly and it took everything in her not to break under that gaze. 

He sounded disappointed and it should not matter to her that he was disappointed in her. She was no longer his student, she never really would be with the new timeline. There was nothing that attached her to this man. And yet he had once played such a key role in her and her friends' lives. She had been loyal to him and so had Harry and many others, and he had been okay with letting them die. He had asked Harry to be that sacrifice. She owed him nothing. She had given him everything and so had Ron, and Harry in pursuing his version of the greater good. A greater good that would have left her Tom to rot in an orphanage without proper guidance and slowly descend onto the path that would place him as a Dark Lord. 

She knew that Dumbledor was not solely to blame for how Tom Riddle had become Voldemort but he had been Tom’s magical guardian and he had not done his diligence in helping to foster, care, and give Tom a real chance to learn to be good. He had left him in the second World War and the blitz. Hermione had given Tom that chance that Dumbledor had not by not judging him right there in that orphanage as someone that was dangerous and perhaps beyond saving other than keeping tabs on. And Hermione knew it in her very soul that Tom, her Tom was good. 

And she would be Damned if she let Dumbledor hurt him now. 

“What sort of disturbances besides that of you breaking my wards?” Hermione again stepped in front of his gaze so that it could not look at Tom. 

“Possibly dangerous ones, the magic used was quite dark. It put a bit of a mark on the land.” He said it with hardly a change in expression. He no longer looked friendly, but he did not look threatening either. 

He reminded her so very much of Tom and his ability to keep his face blank and hard to read. The difference was that Hermione knew Tom, and the ins and outs of his face. She could not even claim to know anything about the real Dumbledor. 

“And you thought to warn me by breaking the very thing that could have kept whatever it was that caused such a thing to happen away from my home and my child?” Hermione knew his lie that he was using to try and get information out of her or to scare her. But she did not care. It really was disgusting that he would take out her safety net. “Most people would have sent an owl and with all due respect, you are hardly a Ministry worker or involved in their matters. How would you know about this incident?” 

“I have other duties besides that of an educator. It was not my intent to create a situation where you would feel unsafe.” He had entered a bit further into her home. Her wand was starting to shake just slightly in her hand as she had been holding her muscles very rigidly and ready for anything. 

“No, you just thought to bring a warning.” Hermione sneered. “Dare I ask what you think caused it?” 

He again looked at her with knowing eyes. “I think that you know what caused it, Mrs. Granger.” 

She felt as if her heart was going to beat out of her chest. It thudded hard against her ribcage, as if it was a trapped bird, beating against the bars. She did not know how to respond.

Think she willed herself, THINK. 

“I came to talk to you about the incident.” He again looked like he was trying to be friendly, trying again to reach out a hand to her in a time of need and she did not know what to do with it. 

She was silent thinking, heart racing. 

“Ma.” Tom was moving closer. He must have known that she was scared, and was stupid enough to want to help. He was nowhere near the skill to be anything but someone that could get in the way after a few attempted fragile shields and hexes. He had only the knowledge of a first-year after all.

“Tomas go upstairs.” She cut him off. 

Her eyes only shifted a little away from Dumbledor. She positioned herself so that her back was to the wall and so that she could look at the both of them without risk. Not that she really thought that the other would strike her with her back turned, but she was not putting anything past anyone anymore. 

He stood his ground. “But Ma…” 

Shani hissed in agreement she was coiled and ready to spring forward. 

“Now. Tomas.” She left no room for negotiation with her tone and use of his full name. He knew that she meant it. “Take Shani with you.” 

He paused a moment more and started up the stairs. Shani followed him, slowly, watchfully and Hermione was grateful that she loyally did so without Tom having to hiss at her. She didn’t know if she wanted Dumbledore to know of Tom’s gifts. 

“Whimsy.” She called. 

There was a pop and Whimsy was at her side. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Dumbledore and the fact that Hermione had her wand on the man. “Yes mistress.” The elf said after a moment of hesitation. 

“Watch Tomas and make sure that he does not attempt anything foolish. Should you hear the code word or not from me I wish for you to take him to the safe place that we discussed.”

The green big eyes blinked with the command and she nodded and bowed, disappearing in a loud crack. 

“You didn’t need to do that.” Dumbledore offered. “I have no intention of hurting yourself, or Tomas.” 

“I do not trust anyone, that has not made a vow with me when it comes to the safety of my family.” Hermione lowered her wand. “Sit, whatever you think that you have on me I would like to hear. Though I am certain that you will find no evidence of any wrongdoing for there is none to find.” 

“Is that your way of saying that you were through when eliminating it?” the old man raised an eyebrow sitting down at the far end of the kitchen table. 

“No that is my way of saying that I have nothing to hide.” Hermione sat across from him, summoning the Tea tray she did not care much if he drank what was offered or not. She needed to find a way to relax before she ended up doing something like actually poisoning him.

“As I am sure you are aware I teach at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” He settled in and looked completely relaxed. “It is my job to inform those that do not know they are a Witch or Wizard by the age of 11 and enrollment what they are. This took me to this fine town to a small family one that has a young girl that will be attending this coming fall. The family was quite surprised to have a Witch in the family.”

“Oh I am sure.” Hermione commented waving her hand over the teapot making the water inside boil and started making her another cup of tea. 

The future headmaster raised a silver eyebrow at this. “Do you hold any hard feelings towards Muggle-borns, Mrs. Granger?” 

“No. I know a few of them personally.” She said plainly. “Tea?” 

She couldn’t relax. She kept feeling like if she did not act like she did at parties that she would crack under his gaze. 

“Yes, thank you.” He took the teacup from her. He checked she noted without magic if it had anything in it.

“I don’t know if I should be insulted that you checked if I was going to poison you or impressed that you did so wandlessly. It is true what my friends have told me, you are a very powerful Wizard.” She stroked his ego like she had many men in power before him to build up her reputation.

“Your friends being the Lord Black and Lord Malfoy?” Dumbledore was fishing.

“My friend Abbott and his fiance Sara Turner actually.” Hermione diverted that hook. 

“Ah Miss. Turner is a very gifted Witch.” He took a sip from his cup and waited to see if she would argue that. 

“Mr. Dumbledore I do not claim to know what you think my opinion of Muggle-borns is but I married my husband and he was a very gifted Muggle-born man. He gave me the only thing in this world that I care about Tomas. So if you are trying to confirm some sort of bigotry towards them from me, you will not find it.” 

She took a sip from her tea doing her best not to let her handshake but it did ever so slightly. She hardened her eyes at him as she looked over her teacup. She was getting tired of these games. She wanted him to just flat out accuse her so she could demand that he leave and maybe throw some hexes at him and be done with it. But she had been playing this game far too long. It had been 9 years of it and she knew that no man or at least a smart one came out with their motives just plain out. She could only guess what he wanted. 

“Perhaps I have misjudged you.” He said softly, almost apologetically. “I heard that your husband passed away shortly before Tom was born.”

“Murdered you mean.” Hermione’s eyes flashed. “Murdered by Pureblood Supremacists” She folded her fingers together and set them out in front of her. “I demand that you tell me what you came here for, these pleasantries bore me. I am used to them from the people that I must convene with for publicity sake. And you have skirted around what you meant to start this conversation with enough.” 

She held her breath as she pushed this forward. Scared of what it would mean. 

“Very well.” He took a voice very serious reserved for those order meetings that she used to eavesdrop on or for the times that they very well could be heading into danger. “The Muggle woman wanted me to look into the disappearance of her son, as there was no explanation for it she wondered if there was anything magical behind it. I might not be a Ministry member as you are aware of and have made painfully clear, but I did promise that woman to look into it, if only to give her a slight peace of mind or closure. And my slight investigation led to meeting a boy named Adrian that had modified memories. As you are the one family in the area from our world besides our newest family I was hoping that you would be able to tell me more about it.” 

There were a lot of things that she could say, but she felt that push again and she sat up very straight all the fear was really gone, replaced with anger. “If you dare probe at my mental defenses again I will indeed send for your arrest. While it is troubling, I can not help you because I know nothing about it but I do know of a few boggarts that do live in the woods that I have warded against. That would not necessarily explain the memory altering, but it could explain the disappearances.”

“Mrs. Granger if anything upon meeting you I have become convinced that you have everything to do with it. You are very protective of your son and I can understand that, he is the only family that you have left. If there were to be an incident you would want to protect him and I have no doubt that it would have been in self-defense. What I saw of Adrians memory would give a fair assumption of that. I merely wish to know the truth.”

And do what with it? Was her first thought, but even Dumbledore was not foolish enough to try to push this case with the ministry. Hermione had high up friends and contacts. There was no evidence to be had. She had insured it, even if things might look suspicious there was nothing to prove her or Tom guilty of anything.  
“What you want is truth to fit your narrative.” She stood then. “I would like you to leave. I have done nothing wrong and will not stand your accusations. I will not press charges if you leave, right now.” 

Dumbledore looked at her with disappointment. “If it was accidental magic, it could get worse and if Tom was the one to cause these deaths it will sit very heavy on his mind. I would like to help you Mrs. Granger as I know by our discussion that it was indeed an accident.” 

“Leave,” Hermione repeated. “Just Leave.”

He bowed his head to her a little and stepped out of her home and there was the loud pop she was used to as the man left. Hermione sat down weakly and shaky legged at the table. 

~/*\~

Tom sat on his bed waiting. His wand was in his hand and he sat there waiting for a noise to tell him that he needed to get up and help. There were no calls though, there was hardly a sound and perhaps that was worse. 

It felt like he was up there for hours. His thoughts slowly were getting worse and worse the longer he sat there. He had told himself that he would protect his mother, it was why he practiced spells so fiercely. He wanted to be able to help her should there ever come a time for it. Help her like she had helped him. But she never let him. She stuck him places where he could be no use to her. She always wanted to protect him, with no concern about what that would cost her. Tom had noticed her reluctance to let him out of her sight. How worried she was for him more so than ever. And it made him hate himself just a little bit, because he was so very weak. He was not able to do the simple task of getting her potions ingredients and his lack of control, and defensive training had led to him killing people and a mess that she had to clean up. One that still ate at him when he thought about how he again had almost left her and how he had failed something that should have been simple. 

Not that it was his completely fault, they both had discussed it. But that did not make it any easier. 

What if that man that was down there had actually hurt his mother and she had no way to call out the word to them?

What if he had done something else that was just as bad, like forced her to take something that would make her do things that she did not want to like tell the truth. 

What if they had gone somewhere and were not coming back?

What if she was dead down there… How would they know? 

He stood and made his way towards the door. He didn’t know who that man was, but his mother did and she had been frightened. 

Whimsy blocked his path. “Master Tomas, sit down please.” 

She was a lot smaller than him and she was looking up at him with those wet-looking big eyes that were not at all concealed with her large spectacles. 

“Let me pass Whimsy.” He said calmly well as calmly as he was capable given the situation. 

“I have orders.” Magic was tangible in the air. “Mistress has asked for Whimsy to enact the safety plan. And Whimsy will do this and what she needs to, even if Master Tomas does not wish it.”

“She could be hurt, or need our help.” Tom narrowed his eyes, his hand clenched into a fist. 

“Whimsy knows this.” She looked very determined for such a small thing. 

“Then let me through.” He demanded. 

“No.” Whimsy said definitely. “Whimsy loves Tomas and will not let him put himself into danger, she loves Mistress but she knows that she can handle herself and that Tomas would only serve to get into her way, should there be a dual.” 

He blinked at her, not liking what she had to say. He could at least help… 

“Master Tomas has a good heart, but he lacks experience, the man downstairs has a much larger magic signature. He is powerful, and Tomas only knows basic spells. He could maybe hit one if very lucky, but would ultimately be a hindrance as Mistress would have to protect him as well as herself.” 

He sat down, hating that she was right and that he had almost let into his impulses rather than thought everything through like he should. 

“Could Shani just check to make sure then.” He said after a minute. 

The house-elf thought it over. “A smarter move.” She admitted, “Though she can’t pass the stairwell without being noticed. 

Tom nodded. 

~Shani~ he hissed and instructed her what he needed from her. She slipped out and moved along the hardwood floor and to the stairs edge and came back. After sticking her head through the bars. 

~The man that smells weird is not as strong~ She moved sticking her tongue in and out a few more times sensing the air. 

~And Mother~ He asked nervously from the door frame. Whimsy was ready to interfere if necessary, 

~Her scent is strong, I don’t smell blood or anything interesting.~ The albino twisted and came back. 

There was a crash from downstairs and Whimsy pulled Shani all the way back inside. Tom knew that house-elves had magic but it always impressed him the way that they did everything without a wand. He could maybe beat Whimsy but she was not even comparable to a fully trained Wizard. He really would have only served to get in the way if he were to go down there. 

But why was it so hard to just sit there then? Even if it was the smarter and certainly the more easy thing to do…

His mother thankfully came up the stairs after a couple of more minutes. She looked drained but she just smiled weakly at him, something that promised that she would give him something about what happened but not its entirety. 

“I dropped the Tea tray, I am sorry that it dented Whimsy, I fixed the teacup that broke though.”

“It’s not a problem Mistress.” Whimsy bowed accepting that things were okay again and her magic that had been ready to act against a possible attacker or maybe to make sure that he did not leave dissipated as the elf smiled. 

They were safe at the moment of that Tom was pretty sure. 

~/*\~ 

A few days later Hermione had received a letter that came from one Albus Dumbledor attached with all of his titles. It was smoothly written and the handwriting was a wonderful neat print that showed years of practice and precision that still did not even seem possible without the assistance of a spelled quill. 

_____________________

Mrs. Granger I wish to apologize for my intrusion into your home the other day.

I believe that I had placed the incorrect judgment upon you by your seeming alignment with the houses of Black and Malfoy. My intentions were indeed to find out the truth, and to do so I did employ some very manipulative tactics. I have since looked greatly into the person that you are and have found someone that is in a situation that I did not so long ago find myself in. 

In my youth, my sister was attacked by Muggles, very brutally in ways that no little girl should ever have been exposed to. My father went to prison for dispatching them, in a most grisly manner. I have no doubt that whatever it is that happened on the quiet road leading to your home, that it had to be covered up. But I also know that things that are never just as simple as brushing them under the rug. My sister never recovered from the incident and it was made even worse by the seeking of justice on my father's end. If something similar in any way has happened to Tomas, even if he does seem a bit better there still could be lasting consequences. I know that there was for me, my brother, and others in my family. 

I would if you allow me to, like to speak more on this manner. I wish to help someone that seems to be more leaning towards the light side than I originally imagined. 

Sincerely, 

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore  
_________________________

She scowled at the piece of parchment not knowing what to make of it. It all seemed like some sort of trick. But it really could have been an olive branch in which to help someone that he thought that would be on his side. 

Hermione did not wish to pick aside. Things were never really good and evil, black or white. Things were mostly gray and very varying shades of it. There was a lot to consider when she thought of the man that she had once admired. Because she could never again follow blindly like she had before. She had someone to protect now. 

One of her favorite book characters once said. “Be a good enough person to forgive another  
But don't be stupid enough to trust them again.” And she possibly could and should stick to that method of thinking. For the most part, she and Dumbledore were likely to agree on a lot of things. He most likely would be in support of the same policies. He could possibly be a good alley. 

But she was not stupid enough to give him something that could be used to try and blackmail her. He would be much more powerful after he defeated Grindelwald and his word would have me say than it did currently. 

Such a dilemma… she hated feeling uncertain.

He could wait for a response at least for a few weeks; if not longer, if ever... 

He really had nothing on her. It would give her enough time to plot out her next moves. 

~/*\~ 

An old song came onto the radio. The soft tune was a familiar one. Hermione sat up in her chair and looked to the sofa where Tom was sitting. He turned the page in his creatures of the night book. Next to him was a notebook that had drawings and notes done in a muggle pen. 

The song was one of the few that she used to dance to with him when he was a toddler. And it felt like it had been that long since it had played. He had always found anything with a little spinning and rocking to be something to laugh at. She loved those days. They were a lot easier. Tom also smiled a lot more.

She wanted to dance to it, as stupid as that was. It had been so stressful lately with the finishing up of setting up the gardens and trying to finalize securing herself the space that she would build her potion shop. 

“Tom, come dance with me.” She stood. She smiled largely and perhaps stupidly. 

“Dance?” He raised both eyebrows. He looked so cute like an owl, wide-eyed and terribly confused. 

She beckoned him. “Come on. I haven’t danced with you in years.” She reaches out for him and even though he had no idea what was going on he was at least kind enough to humor her. 

He stood slowly, “I don’t think I have ever danced.” He left his book open to a page that looked like it was on Boggarts as there was just a picture of an empty room on the page. 

“You were perhaps too little to remember.” She took his hands gently in hers. “You used to dance on my feet actually.” 

She took them through just a simple box step leading like she had a very long time ago. Tom really was not that coordinated with his limbs it seemed as he was stepping on her a lot and looking at his feet.

“You're thinking it,” She informed him. “Just feel it” she leaned in. 

“I am.” He muttered, “I am feeling like I am bad at it.” 

She laughed “Your father was bad at it too.”

He did a bit better as he was no longer looking at his feet. He wasn’t very graceful and Hermione wondered if he was in the original timeline. He was a charmer she knew but she wondered if he had taken the time to learn to dance with all the social events he would have needed to go to building connections. Because her Tom could not catch a baseball or kick a ball. He could run, fly a broom, and make delicate potions. But he did fall when he ran up the stairs too fast and he tripped all the time when he ran from Shani.

He smiled slightly though as if to be polite about the amount of times that he stepped on her foot. But Hermione supposed that was what made it, there was no one watching and they were just living in the moment. Like anything that Tom was bad at he insisted on getting better so one dance became a couple. Which she felt that he might have been enjoying when he started to get the opportunity to lead. Whimsy even joined in for a couple. Perhaps she should invest in a better radio so that it could be a bit louder. 

~/*\~

Hermione finally did secure that store in Diagon Alley. She had decided to show Tom the place before signing the papers and he was less than thrilled with the way that the inside was covered in grime, and would take a great deal of work to repair.

It was very different than Hermione’s reaction to it, as she found it a place that while needing fixing up that she could make it into something that she wanted or rather had been envisioning for a couple of years now. 

It would have been completely silly to give in to the temptation to spin around but a person only lived once and there were only so many opportunities to embarrass your child. So that was exactly what she did. “What do you think?”

“We're not living here.” He said it not as a question but as a fact. He did not want to live somewhere other than their home which had most needed open space for both of them. Nothing beat the countryside now that she had a chance to really experience it. 

“Of course not.” She shook her head. “I like our home and would not dream of leaving it. This will be our place of work. I don’t need to send potions off when people can come in here to get them. I plan on converting this front room to the storefront and the basement and the rest of the ground floor to laboratory space. The upstairs will have the apartment turned into many rooms that can accommodate workers.”

Tom tilted his head, “there isn’t much space for people, it's a two-bedroom at best.” 

He was right of course, people trying to cram in there wouldn’t be good at all, but the people that she was planning to employ were a lot smaller and they were not the type to really want much in the case of living accommodations.

“Yes well, House Elves do not really like big rooms, and will be pretty happy with the two bedrooms separated into 6. I plan on getting rid of the closets and using that to give even more space to the rooms. Hermione gestured. 

“House Elves?” Tom furrowed his brows. 

“I plan on making my staff comprise mostly of house elves, possibly a goblin for finances not to be spiciest or anything but they are extremely gifted at managing funds. Can you guess why I would choose to employ them besides the obvious that I will not have to pay them as much as a Witch or Wizard?”

“Well you pay Whimsy, but she says that most House-elves like just simply working and do not wish for any compensation other than decent treatment, home, and food. But I suppose it is because they are very quick to learn a skill set and are perfectionists.” 

“Yes that plays a role, but House Elves are also under contract. We shall be making potions here that perhaps will change the world, but also are under the Granger Grade standard. The techniques that I have taught you some of them have not been printed in books and improve the potions we create. These tools of the trade are what sets us apart. A House Elf will not tell a person they have made such a contract with secrets.”

He nodded putting his hand to his chin thinking about it. “We could probably use help with the gardens too. If we are still planning on growing most of our own.” 

“Yes well, we will have to import some things till we get really started.” Hermione agreed. “But for now, I think that this will work out well. We for sure will be promoting rights for our workers as well.”

Tom actually snorted. “I can not wait till they try to riddle out that one, the Blacks will be dumbfounded when they find out that you actually plan to pay them. They would be for free labor and secret-keeping, but treating elves as people? Mother, I would pay for a picture of Walburga’s face.” 

Shani twisted around the floor as if laughing at the suggestion, her loud hisses were quieted as she climbed up onto Tom. Her large body weighed him down just a tad as she whispered something to him. 

“Yes well, we are in no real need for their great graces anymore. That is not to say that we should be seeking to cause problems.” Hermione glanced at him knowingly.

He smiled innocently enough, but she wondered if Tom really would listen to that suggestion. Walburga had been pretty active in letter sending and while Tom was nice enough to humor her, she could not claim she did not notice the young lady’s liking of him. 

“So.” She continued, “Shall I sign the paperwork and we can see about hiring?” 

“Only if you let me sit in on the interviews.” Tom narrowed his eyes. 

“You think I would just hire any old elf?” She faked shock at the idea. 

“I know for a fact from Whimsy that is what you plan to do. Anyone that needs a job and was disgraced you want to pick up. You want to gather all the strays.” Tom folded his arms. “I mean I saw the sign that you made.” 

She smiled larger, “They will be the most loyal, but I do plan to screen them.” 

She hung the sign on the door as they left and she sent off the signed papers making it official. Hoots taking them to the Ministry with all the permits intact. 

Tom shook his head at the sign as he held out his hand for apparition. She took his hand and looked back at the nice sign in the window. 

`````GRANGER GRADE POTIONS now hiring all races, species, and blood statuses are welcome to apply.``````` 

Her smile grew a bit larger as she apparated back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thank you some much for all the love. Makes me feel special ｡◕ ‿ ◕｡
> 
> Next chapter Tom is headed to school they grow up so fast! இ___இ


	14. Part VX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s get this chapter started!

Cleaning the place out didn’t take that long. Hermione only needed to get one part of the place up to par to allow for her to start the hiring process, that being the very front of the store and an area that could act as a side office. Because Tom insisted on being present for the interviews, they had to shift their current production schedules and his magic training. It was a tight ship that they were running, but Tom seemed to thrive when given something that he could be in charge of and show off responsibility. 

Godric bless his teachers and classmates, if Slytherin house did not gain Tom as a leader, the Ravenclaws would see a jump in their points by his near never-ending questions on how best to run a business and best practices. He seemed to have the code notes on him at all times to make sure that anything they had added was not met with any fines. 

Her first hire Lavorx had taken a lot of pride in trying to help Tom learn the ins and outs of business. Never too young he had said, before commenting that his son would be learning how to count gold the second that he was able to. He had been one of the few people that Hermione had, let into her home. It had certainly helped the relations as she had trusted a Goblin to enter it. And he was rather pleased by Whimsy’s service. 

So upon entering her establishment she put Tom on the front desk. He could not use his wand in the shop but he did help with manually cleaning up the area. The front of their shop showcased potions shelves that would be full in no time once the help was trained. They encompassed most of the walls, except for a small section for homegrown ingredients, and the doorway that had a curtain in front of it that would be leading to the actual brewing areas. The place was 3 stories. The overhead railing that went to the second floor was decorated with a thick black curtain that was set a few feet back as not to block the wood. The curtain was enchanted to look like a night sky with signage that indicated that potion making was in process and possible inventions that were to become reality. 

Hermione was not yet able to cheapen the total cost that it would be to make Wolfsbane but she did think that she had it down enough to try to find people that would agree to test her ‘cure.’ It was one of the things that Tom was interested in seeing if it would work. There were a few other ideas that she had based on her own advancements to potions that she would also like to try out. She was sure that a lot of people would be interested as she made it more publicized that she thought she had discovered something. She would spout theory after theory if it got her some participants. 

After the place looked decent enough to start hiring they opened the doors. There were a lot of people that applied. Because she had advertised more towards elves she did get quite a few that were in need of jobs. 

Tom helped to screen them all by helping Hermione to look into their backgrounds and what their specialties were. She liked elves that had been needed for cooking best because they would have some skills already in using a knife and gagging temperatures. There were a few that were better with manual labor that she set up on her own property in an old barn she had converted to a decently nice small home. They would be working on keeping her greenhouses that she had spent most of the spring and summer constructing. 

She had Mixie helping with the cleaning currently in the store, she was an older elf and much like Whimsy had issues with balance and such in her old age. She would be in charge of keeping the apartments upstairs clean, and the main floor. She was over the moon happy about getting a job as no one else would contract her. 

“Any more today?” Hermione sat at the stool by the large front desk that now had a register sitting upon it. 

She had done about 5 interviews with Witches and Wizards today that thought themselves to be the next greatest potion master, a few of them were very delusional about what they should make for their first job and first time making said potions outside of a Hogwarts classroom. Hermione would not be taking too many of Professor Slughorn’s letters of recommendation too seriously. 

It was a real mess and she might have been near done hiring but it made choosing from applicants a little harder as she had a few that while seemed nice enough and really in need of jobs, she did not think would suit the jobs the best. 

“One,” Tom said turning the book towards her with a small yawn. “A man named Oswin Cromwell.”

Hermione sighed. “What position is he applying for?”

Tom shrugged, “He wrote anything that is available. Probably does not have any real usable skills.” 

She frowned slightly, she did not need many more workers that would be for manual labor and the potions were already going to be taken care of by her house elf staff. She also had an extra one hired for the sake of keeping their apartment and the store tidy. She could use someone she supposed that was a bit more on the human side to make some of her deliveries. It would help with customers that were a bit more sensitive to different species and all that. 

“We need a few people still for delivery and someone for the cashier.” 

“I thought that was what you hired Bleft for.” Tom’s brow furrowed. 

“Bleft can not be expected to work as the cashier every day at every hour. Even if he is quite the eager Goblin to prove himself good at handling coins.” Hermione sighed. 

“He is too eager if you ask me,” Tom muttered, tapping his finger on the desk. 

“If he were to steal he would be disgraced, as handling of coins is very important to Goblins and they would not let him back into any of their folds if they suspected that it was pilfered,” Hermione explained. “That is also why we have Lavorx in charge of administering wages, managing money, and tracking spending. He will do his very best to make sure that where we can we will save, without cutting corners that would damage production value. If there is one trait held close by their people it is the quality of the goods that they make, or attach themselves to selling.” 

“Getting two than to recognize us then must be an honor.” Tom tilted his head thinking about it. And yes some people would think that, as Goblins were pretty difficult to win over, but a lot of people stupid though they may be thought themselves far greater than other races than human. 

Hermine shifted on the stool as it was not that comfortable, but she supposed that it was just best to sit after the long day. “It can be, but I do not think that our friends are from noble houses; there are a few Goblin families that are a bit more respected than most. If I would like to grant them all the respect that they deserve just like any human being would want for themselves.” 

“People earn respect, or at least that is what Black said the last time that I saw him.” Tom played with the notebook that held all the appointment dates and times. He put his thumb against the spiral and kept pushing it down. 

“I think that one should try to give everyone respect until given a reason not to.” Hermione did not want to touch on how she felt about that one. Too many people thought that it was okay to look down on someone just because of Blood Status or Appearances alone. Hermione tried to give everyone a fair shot, but she wouldn’t go around handing it out to people she knew did not deserve it based on their horrible actions. 

“Pass me the application.” She held out her hand and Tom passed her the paperwork. 

~/*\~ 

Oswin was a very skinny man. He wore very thin robes that were frayed a bit on the edges. He did not smell all that pleasant, he smelt as if the only thing that he had been using was cleaning charms. He sat very rigidly in the small chair of the converted office space that Hermione planned on having mail sorted in and sharing with whoever it was that she hired for that job. She only needed to fill 3 more spots. 

“Oswin, do you have any marketable skills in which to offer.” Hermione asked the man that looked like he was starting to sweat a tad, sitting in the seat that he was. 

Tom did not look at all impressed and he rolled the ink quill that was in front of him back and forward. 

“I can… I can apparate, I can lift heavy things, and I can work nearly any day and any time.” He offered. “Well except a few times a month, a few days really.” 

“Mr. Cromwell is there something that you did not place on your application.” Hermione looked at him seriously now and she could see that he had a couple bandages along his hand that he was trying to hide up his sleeve. She folded her hands in her lap as she studied him. 

The man hung his head for a second, before picking it back up. Yes, that was something that Hermione could appreciate, someone that was not completely defeated, that still had faith in themselves. 

“I might have left off that I suffer from lycanthropy. It really will not be a problem as it will only be the day of the moon and the day before that I will not be able to work. I swear it will not impede me from working my hardest at whatever task that you assign me.” 

“It is the law to bring this to the attention of an employer when they are attempting to hire someone that does suffer from the illness.” She responded. 

The man looked a bit like he was ready to walk out and accept that he would not have a job, but Hermione smiled a little at him which confused him. 

“I would have liked you to have put it on your application. It matters not that the law demands it. I see there as nothing wrong with hiring you and request that you spend the day before the moon, the day of the moon, and then the day after the moon at your residence. I do this because my dear friend always felt that he needed to recover the day after.” 

He was speechless. 

“I do need one more person for deliveries, you would be expected for 5 days a week, 9 to 5, and to inform me whenever there is a miss scheduling that has placed you working on the days that you need to have off. I also can not pay you more than the minimum wage currently.” 

She folded her hands in her lap. “Mr. Cromwell would these terms suffice for you?” 

“I… Yes…” He stammered. 

“We will not be opening till the very end of the month for delivery. But I do think that you could help with a few other things in the meantime if you do not mind.” 

“No. I would like to help with whatever it is that you need.” Oswin looked a lot better than he had entering the makeshift office. 

“Good I need some help with sorting of ingredients harvested and bringing them here to the potion supply cabinets. Each makeshift potion room will need their own ingredients stored and ready to go. I can send you the details, where is it that you are staying?” Hermione rose from her seat. 

Tom was making a slight face but she ignored him. It was not because he was a werewolf, her son was many things but she had made sure that bigoted was not one of them. It perhaps was his appearance and his lack of hygiene. Which would be remedied shortly.

“I currently stay at a muggle inn...” He started. “I would like my own place someday.” 

“That will not do. The full moon is only a week away. I shall propose another add on to the agreement if you would hear me out. I have rooms for my employees that are house elves as part of their contract. I would be willing to include this into yours as well. It would lower your pay, as you would have to pay a bit of rent, however, it would be far cheaper than you staying at an inn. I will also help set you up a location for transformations in return for perhaps you helping me with my latest potions.” 

“And what are your latest potions?” He looked very shocked and possibly overwhelmed by her kindness.

Which really was what it was, she did not want to be manipulative, she really did want to help him. And it was best that she had some also to test out her work and help provide evidence that it worked. Tom seemed to know where this was going because he had a very smug smile on his face as he now was making an effort to gather the proper paperwork. 

“I am on the path I think to creating a cure or at least curbing the symptoms for lycanthropy. And I really would appreciate the assistance of someone like yourself and possibly a few others if you know them.” She smiled holding out her hand. “What do you say? Will you join my team in changing the world?” 

He nodded and gripped her hand tighter than should have perhaps been possible from such a thin man. “I really would be honored.” 

~/*\~

The hiring process took the remainder of the summer and into the early fall but Hermione had secured herself 12 house elves, 2 goblins, one Muggleborn Wizard, A Wizard suffering from lycanthropy and a man that since he wanted to help with delivering and or shutting down the facility as he was only available to work at night and was allergic to garlic, she could only assume was a Vampire. Mordred certainly was pale enough if the other signs were not good indicators. Tom had disliked him immediately because he mentioned that he did not like the way that he smelt like old pipes. Hermione would admit that he did have a metallic smell to him, that she did relate to the blood he might have carried on him for his evening shift lunch. 

Things were running smoothly. Hermione was gaining other werewolves that were interested in at least trying her potion and she was sure that by the end of the coming year that she would be able to market it as proof of at least medication that could help with the condition. She had trained the elves to make potions each one had a specialty that they specialized in and made that potion and those that were very similar to it. For instance, she had Mox working on cough remedy potions, she also taught him the remedy for hiccupping one, and one that helped with other forms of lung infections as they were similar. 

Tom had helped to train some of the elves in the easier potions that he had been doing with her since she had started his training. The potions that came from those elves definitely reached the Granger Grade high standards and she had praised Tom at every opportunity for all of his help. Tom liked praise and responded to it by working harder and being even more dedicated. While that was appreciated, she sometimes wondered if he would burn himself out. Kids really liked to please their parents, and she hoped that she was not encouraging him into doing more than he felt like he could handle. Still she supposed that if Tom did push himself too hard then there would be a decent life lesson in it for him. 

Hermione found her business rising faster than she had thought possible. She knew that It would be easy to expand since she had more people than herself and Tom making potions, but she had not imagined it to take off so well with orders from all over the country. She now supplied most pharmacy type shops and hospitals in the London area. Granger Grade was really off to a great start. 

~/*\~

For the holidays Hermione treated her staff to a Yule party on the unplanted part of her land. Everyone could be in attendance as it was at a time of day that the sun would be down so even Mordred could come. They shared food from all different backgrounds, sang, danced, and drank. It was amazing really that they were all able to come together. 

Who would have thought it, but a house elf named Milly danced and seemed to be getting along splendidly with Bleft. In fact he seemed interested in her if that was even possible. If Hermione was to give a really hard look at Milly the sort of crazy dedication that she had to her work and want to wear strange clothes because she had the money to, she might have been in Dobby’s family line and no doubt had won the Goblin over with her strangeness.

Mordred seemed to keep a bit more to himself, but even he could not help but be swept up a little into the fun as the Witch that sorted mail and helped with the ordering demanded that he at least try some of her cooking. 

Hermione even allowed Oswin to have a dance with her and for some reason it made her really happy to have someone that had about as much skill at it as Ron. Tom had asked for one after so she had danced one with him and then Mordred had asked and soon she was dancing with at least every one of her employees with the exception of Bleft because he was to the point of intoxication that perhaps he should have been taken home. Lavorx seemed embarrassed that they were the same species. 

It had been the first Yule that Hermione had not felt alone in a very long time. She was surrounded by friends and of course family with both Tom and Whimsy in attendance. Yule had been somber for her as she supposed that she never got over how empty her house was in comparison to the larger Christmases that she had spent at the Weasleys. She had always been missing what she had. It did not mean that she did not like watching Tom open gifts or the times that he had believed in Santa Claus. It just had always been a date that part of her longed to be with people that she could call her friends and family. Yes technically the people that were with her tonight, she had hired. But she liked to think that she really did know them and they her. 

~/*\~ 

As Tom turned ten Hermione had planned for them to take a small trip. Snow White the very first Disney film had been released and Hermione had felt like it would be nice for them to spend some time outside of the Wizarding World and experience some of the good things that the Muggle world had to offer, at least while it lasted as she knew that the second World War was quickly approaching. A lot of great buildings and structures would be damaged and lost in very unforgiving ways. She also hoped that through their longer trip that Tom could perhaps associate some care for Muggles, and appreciation for some of their culture.  
They visited many museums, looked at art, and went to zoos. Tom liked to stop every so often to talk to snakes that were on display, they did not seem at all happy with their living conditions. Hermione could not exactly blame them as zoos did not really start to consider animals beyond physical health till nearer to her own time. The real principals of conversation would not even be around for another 20 years at least. 

She did not expect Tom to find movies so fascinating. He wanted to see all sorts of them from comedies to the war films that were made based on the first world war. Tom found them something that he could critique and appreciate. Especially some of the films that had started to integrate color. Hermione could see them going to London more regularly to see some of the upcoming films. Tom had liked Snow White well enough, even if he preferred live-action things versus animation. He seemed to think that live-action took more skill with camera shots, makeup, script, and all that. Hermione had argued how time-consuming it was to draw scenes and then all the facial expressions that made up a character talking or singing. It had led to one of their draws and agree to disagree. 

She supposed that she should not have been surprised when the best even the wizarding world had, for the most part, was radio and moving pictures. Movies were just way longer versions of that, she did admittingly miss some of her favorites. She supposed that she could live to see some of them again come out. Though she doubted that Tom would want to watch anything too 90’s Disney when he was an adult. Perhaps her grandkids would, that was if Tom got married. She could not exactly picture it, probably because the other timeline Tom had not seemed to care about people at all. This time sure he was capable of a little of it towards those that he deemed worthy of it so it was not impossible but it was hard to really gain that type of response from Tom. She was pretty sure that he only truly cared for Her, Whimsy, Lavorx because he was obsessed with teaching Tom things, and perhaps Paws and Shanti could be included into the mix. 

She must have been getting old if she was thinking that long term. She was nearly 40 now. She sighed deeply, one never really got any younger and time really did fly, didn’t it? Tom would be going to Hogwarts soon. She had him home for about another year and so she took a couple of extra moments to enjoy him dragging her into a France bookshop to look at the strange covers that he was seeing. 

~/*\~ 

Tom had not been invited to a party for a long time. He guessed that he could call the small gathering that he had helped to host for Yule a party but no one there had expected him to bring them anything or to dress up real fancy-like. Abraxas Malfoy was turning 10 and he was having a birthday party. His mother was invited to spend her time with the adults that were going, but Tom would be spending his time with those that were closer to his age. 

Tom didn’t really know if he liked Abraxas or not. He was childish as far as Tom could tell from their letters as it had been almost a year since he had seen the other. He complained about stupid things like being forced to go to business meetings, and that he did not get everything that he had wanted for Yule. He was spoiled and liked to just moan about all the woes of his life. The nice thing about Letters was that Tom could skim it if he did not like what was being said, he could not exactly do that in person. The only reason that Tom could say that he did not hate Abraxas was he was decent enough at talking about things like spells that he too was learning in secret. 

Magical knowledge was something that even if Tom was not fond of a person would not risk ruining a partnership over. He put up with a lot of stupid people helping his mother, most of them were costumers or at least those that claimed to be that were far too noisy for their own good. It always was fun to see them squirm as they realized that Tom, a 10-year-old, had backed them into either a conversational corner or a literal one as he accused them of snooping and implied that they would not like a lawsuit against them. 

He really liked Larvox for giving him those law books. He was such an interesting little man or Goblin. Tom still did not really like it when he smiled, Larvox rarely did and when he did it always made him feel a little uneasy. It was probably all the sharp teeth, and the way that Larvox was like a cat when it came to the games that he played with people that thought that they could take advantage of their business. To Tom, he always looked like a cat that had someone like a mouse pinned by the tail under his paw. They underestimated him and that was their downfall. 

Tom had really learned a lot from Larvox. It was best to let people think that they would get away with something and then pull the rug out from under them, or it was best to just play along and get what had to be obtained from a person without sacrificing much for the effort. His mother had demonstrated how to play the long-running game when it came to people that she did not particularly like that much and Tom had taken that lesson and the others well in the approach that he had for dealing with Abraxas. Play nice in the sandbox, share but don’t overshare, and always gather whatever information that could be of use in the future if he had to finally crush the mouse. 

He did his best to look like he, while not being excited to be at the party, was at least okay with being there if only for Abraxas's sake. He didn't exactly know all the people that were around him. Abraxas introduced them, of course, there was Avery, Lestrange, Rosier who was already attending school and a year older than them and Mulciber who had just turned ten himself. 

Tom was the smallest out of them, with the exception of Walburga who was well into her first year at Hogwarts. Tom was very sick of her letters. There was also Malissa Smith and Dianna Greengrass. Dianna being a third year at Hogwarts and the oldest of the girls. All the girls that were present were chatting in the far corner and every once and a while would deflect looks towards Tom. 

“You know they seem to like you, perhaps the best thing that you could do is to smile back at them.” Lestrange shrugged his more broad shoulders. His darker hair was cut very short and Tom could see a slight scar by his ear now that he was looking a bit more at the kid's face than he wanted to. 

“Or don’t.” Avery grinned largely, “Their disappointment could lead to other opportunities for us.” 

“Is that your only hope then?” Tom tilted his head to the side. “I suppose that perhaps I should smile to save them from other future disappointments.” 

Abraxas laughed behind his hand as Rosier barked out a laugh. “Ha, I like you kid.” He shoved Tom a little while putting his arm around his shoulder. “You’re quiet till you give a biting remark.” 

Tom glared at him but let the weird side hug continue. He was not interested in starting anything with the people around him. Tom had no want to repeat the incident with John. 

“I heard that Walburga has been writing to you regularly.” Rosier continued. “She does slip off to the owlery every week to send a letter to someone other than her parents.” 

“She writes to me as well.” Abraxas decided to save Tom as Rosier let go enough for Tom to slip out of his hold when the attention fell back to the birthday boy. 

“Huh?” Lestrange tapped his chin, “maybe she just wants homework help from you Tom. I heard you are following in your mother’s footsteps when it comes to potions.”

“As if I could discuss potions with Walburga if I wanted to.” Tom straightened up and dusted off his jacket as if it had something on it from Rosier. 

That earned another bark laugh from Rosier that made a small pass at him again but this time Tom managed to keep the grabby older kid away from him. “Abraxas I am so glad that you invited Tomas. He brings such spirit to these sorts of things.”

Abraxas shrugged but was looking at Tom funny and Tom narrowed his eyes slightly wondering if that look meant that Abraxas was upset about not being the center of his own party. 

It was not till later that Abraxas pulled him aside so that they were out in his gardens, they were much more decorative than anything that could be found around his home. He didn’t mind the flowers that were poking their way through the last of the snow. He had once gotten lost trying to find such blooming plants. 

“Do you like Walburga?” He asked when they were out further. It was not exactly what Tom expected to hear. 

The nearly white-haired boy looked at him with big blue eyes that were hard to read. Tom again didn’t really feel much when it came to the other boy. But him acting weird all night was more annoying than anything. Tom was pretty good at reading when someone was lying to him or being untruthful in their facial expressions. He knew that Abraxas had been faking smiles all evening, much like Tom had. 

“Well I don’t completely dislike her.” He decided to go with something vague to test the waters. 

“That's not an answer.” Abraxas stepped a little forward into his personal space. “I just want to know, because you are all that she talks about.” 

Was this a way for Abraxas to tell him that he wanted Tom not to think about dating Walburga? 

Was he jealous?

Because Tom would gladly hand over a pile of gold coins that he had earned over the course of the past year if it meant that Walburga would stop sending him as many letters that were very cringey and hinting that she liked certain things. She had not been suttle in her wanting to be more than friends. Tom found her attempts very similar to those terrible romance magazines that he had caught one of the elves reading on her lunch break. Abraxas could date Walburga all that he wanted. Tom would love that really, they could keep each other busy and not bother him. 

“I don’t like-like her if that is what you're asking.” Tom sniffed trying not to make his disgust at the idea known. 

Abraxas seemed to relax at that a little. “I just think that she wouldn’t be good for you. She is not nearly as interesting as she pretends, and you, I can tell bored easily of these sorts of things. You seem to like working and Walburga seems allergic to it.” 

This was not where Tom had thought this conversation was going. It seemed that Abraxas was trying to save him from a bad relationship situation. He was not exactly sure what to make of it. 

“I can agree with that.” He finally managed. “She seems very wrapped up with the whole blood purity thing and I am a half-blood. It wouldn’t work out.” 

Abraxas really looked at him. “Are you sure?” 

Tom laughed, he could not help it. “My father was a Muggle-born and my mother is a half-blooded Witch. I know that I don’t really look like my mother but I do have her eyes.” 

“And talent for potions.” Abraxas settled with that. 

Tom nodded. “It’s a lot more practice than anything, my father apparently barely passed the subject. He was a bit more into defense against the dark arts and enforcing the law.” 

Abraxas shrugged. “Do you think that blood matters though?” 

Tom thought about it for a moment. He watched the melting snow drip from the lonely trees around them. It was similar to the time that he had slunk off before now that he thought about it. It had been when he asked if they could be friends, and while Tom really did not consider anyone besides Shani to be his friend he could understand that perhaps Abraxas did consider them to be. Blood was something that his family was known for. It was something that he held in high regard, and yet he was asking his honest opinion on it. 

They had written to each other about different philosophies about the world. Tom, like Shani, did not really tend to look on the bright side. Tom felt that life was a cruel thing and so were most people. It was important to look out for yourself and those that you considered to be yours. Abraxas had believed in that as well, but also that those that wielded power had to make sure that they were taking care of people that were below themselves. Tom did not exactly know where he placed himself on the whole hierarchy thing, but he supposed that he could agree with his mother that people were people regardless of blood. Elves and other things might not be human but they were intelligent thinking species that deserved respect. Blood was just another circumstance of birth, and no one could change who they were born to. They could change other things about themselves like looks to an extent, their beliefs, and what they choose to define themselves as. But at the end of the day, his father had been a good man and was kill just for the belief that he was less because of something as simple as blood. Tom knew that it happened to people just because their shade was a different hue in the Muggle world. 

He could lie to Abraxas, but this was one of the few things that he believed in so deeply that he felt like if he were to lie he would be insulting his own father and those that he worked with on a daily basis. 

“No, I don’t really think blood matters.” He tilted his head. “We're all human in the end. We have magic because it’s in our genes. I prefer one's abilities and character to be what defines them.” 

He dared Abraxas to argue but he didn’t. He was unsure what that meant. He just smiled a little one of those weird ones that Tom didn’t know what they meant and led them back towards the rest of the party as he was sure to have been missed. 

It was many weeks later before he received anything from Abraxas and the only thing that he received was a thank you for the books that he had gotten him. Tom didn’t think that he would miss the letters from the other, but found that he did. 

It made the weeks of spring that blended into summer a lot harder to get through. Especially when he heard from Walburga every other week talking about how Abraxas, Avery, and a few others were constantly spending time together. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did sting just a bit. 

~/*\~ 

It was nearing winter again when Hermione finally was able to launch her Wolfbane’s potion. It had enough evidence to back up the fact that it did indeed help those that suffered under the full moon’s effects. Her business was seeing even more of a boom and it led to the hiring of a night staff so that Granger Grade could be open 24/7 for all of the clients and customers' needs. 

Vampires had really been the first people to approach her about the night crew. They heard from Mordred that even though she knew he was a Vampire that she had treated him very well, that she in fact treated most beings really well. As they were part of Mordred’s colony, they thought that they could offer assistance as they were most active during the night. It was hard to find places where they could get proper coin. So she had the elves help to teach the night staff, and switched most of the deliveries to night to help with perception that they were normal individuals as the colony did not want to attract too much attention. She could not blame them. There were still people claiming to be Vampire hunters after all. 

With her newfound fame there was another letter from a certain person that she had never replied to. She just had felt it best not to involve herself at all with Dumbledore. Not till she was sure what he exactly wanted for the future, now that there would not be a Dark Lord running around after Grendlewald for him to fight. She wanted to see what laws he was passing, and learn more about what she could support here and there without throwing the whole thing. 

She might have been popular among some for her potions, but she also was pushing forward groundbreaking things alone without writing it into law. Her staff was Goblins, Elves, Vampires, and those that suffered from lycanthropy. She pushed boundaries with offered health care for her lunar friends, they got potions for free for their illness through working with her. She paid elves. She was not terrified of Vampires. She treated all equally and while she was only a half-blood, she had solved 2 medical mysteries in the last 8 years... She could see opposition coming, crawling up from the shadows. She knew what Grendleward would bring. He would bring his bigotry home against those that he did not see worthy of magic, and he would bring death upon Muggles if he so felt inclined. There were bound to be issues. But she couldn't bring herself to hold back.

If not her then who would push for these rights?

She folded Dumbledor’s letter in her hand before opening it and reading it thoroughly. So the ministry was thinking that they could pass some Werewolf regulation bills. Not on her watch. Perhaps she would have to take up a stance in the summer voting over the bill. Tom would be safer at school. He would not have to face as much of a possible backlash if she did fight tooth and nail against it. 

She looked over at Tom who was practicing on turning the blanket that she had given him different colors. He had needed something to do and had bothered her enough to teach him the harmless spell. She was going to miss him. She could already feel the tugging on her heart at the thought. 

~/*\~

The letter had come for him in the morning with a large wax stamp on it, with a crest that he had seen only a handful of times outside of Hogwarts A History that his mother had gifted him for Christmas. It previously had been on her warded shelf in the library but she figured that he would enjoy reading up about the place that he would be attending in a few short months. Tom had. He knew a bit more about the houses and could easily see himself fitting into the house that's symbol was based on the ability to talk to snakes. He could also see Ravenclaw, he did not think that the other houses really would suit him all that much.

He spent the downtime helping his mother with work, writing his own short stories that he thought would make good movies or longer tales. He liked to keep busy because it kept him from thinking too hard that Walburga had stopped writing to him. He could only attribute the lack of mail from people he had once thought as his friends had something to do with how he did not care at all about blood status and they were obsessed with it. 

Tom felt perhaps he deserved to feel let down by it, as he had continued to write them even when he found out what people like them liked to do in America. He should have known that they would not stick with him, even with other good attributes. It didn’t stop him from wondering if they were not writing him because they didn’t truly care at all about him, if they did in the first place or if the Blacks and Malfoy line had finally had it with his family as they might have pushed the envelope with some of the hirings that they had done. 

~/*\~

Tom had been to Diagonally every day for the past year and a half, with the exceptions of holidays and a few days off that his mother took from working. It had lost a lot of its charm in that amount of time. That was not to say that Tom did not like shopping for books there, or that he did not find new things that he hadn’t seen before in the crowds that passed their shop doors or in the stores that sold magical trinkets. But there was a store that he had never been into. It was the wand shop. Ollivanders according to his mother sold the best wands and Tom could not help but be a little excited to get his real one. It was not that the one that he practiced with was bad, but after reading up a bit on how wands choose their masters, he really felt that he would be a lot better with the wand that was his and his alone. 

His mother was oddly clingy as they were getting his supplies. He felt her hand finding his a lot or her resting her hand on his shoulder. It was not really annoying or anything he just found it odd. They had saved wand shopping for very last. 

When Tom stepped foot into the shop it felt like he was breathing in old wood, the place smelt much like a used bookstore, with the smell of fading ink and dying paper as it yellowed with age. There were boxes everywhere green and black, silver lettering on them. There seemed to be no order to the place, just boxes on top of boxes, and rows and rows of shelves. The counter that was blocking someone from looking much farther than the first few rows was covered in dust. Tom would never let their store become in such a state.

A man looked at them from behind the counter, he looked as old as the shop and his reputation implied. He looked ancient with wispy gray hair that went every which way. He looked at Tom, a look that showed he knew why he had come. His eyes sparkled with a weird form of joy, and he smiled nicely. 

“Welcome, I see that it is time for your first wand.” He gestured for Tom to come closer. “I usually get new students closer to August.”

Tom nodded not really feeling a need to say anything as the man looked at his hands intensely. His mother said nothing as the stranger gripped his hand lightly. 

“Perhaps Willow or Yew will suit you.” He muttered to himself and dropped his hand. 

Tom looked back at his mother as the old man set about pulling a couple of boxes down. He then returned and carefully opened the first box. “Try this one.”

Tom held the thin black wand in his hand. 

“Wave it, Tom.” His mother smiled leaning a little closer. 

He did and the shelf housing wands closest to the old man burst into flames that were quickly put out by Olivander. 

“No not that one.” He shook his head. “How about this?” 

He handed another one over this time it was a very thin brown wand that had a lot of curves towards the bottom, it reminded Tom of a branch that had just been cut off of a tree. He waved it and the vase in the corner shattered. 

His mother helpfully fixed it with a wave of hers. 

“Definitely not, perhaps not Willow.” Ollivander nodded his head. “He handed off another wand. It was white and looked very much like a bone at the top. It even had the carved sponging towards the top. 

He gripped it, and he did not know how to describe it, but it felt right there was a warmth to the wand-like he had just received a strong hug from his mother after something horrible had happened. It was comforting, kind almost. It was like he could feel from the wand a feeling of happiness to be with him. But wands were just wood with a core that came from magic. Right? He waved it just to see what would happen and stars came out of the tip. Beautiful stars that drifted from the ceiling down, like glowing rain. He blinked at them holding out his hand to catch one and it disappeared on contact. 

“Excellent, I would say that wand likes you and by its reaction to you, I can tell that you are going to be quite the powerful wizard.” The old man’s smile was really something. Tom looked again at the wand in his hand before setting it down gently onto the counter. 

“It is Yew wood, phoenix core, 13 and ½ inches.” The man nodded as he started to put it back into the box. 

All Tom could do was think back to what he knew of plants. Yew trees were very poisonous there was nothing that was not poisonous about them besides the barriers and unlike most plants, if one was to consume enough of the plant they would die, not just get sick. It was because of that extreme poison and ability to survive no matter how hacked up that it was and broken that the tree was seen to have spiritual properties. Tom knew that the tree would live even if cut down to a stump. It was a symbol of life and death. That was why people planted it in churchyards and in graveyards. Phoenixes were definitely a symbol for rebirth but he did not know much else about them. He had favored darker creatures in his research. 

His mother bought him the wand, and even though he could not use it yet, he wanted to hold it, because it felt strangely like a missing part of himself. His older practice wand felt strange from that moment on when he used it around the home. And he supposed that was because his mother had chosen it for him and it wanted nothing really to do with him. Now that he was looking for it, he could feel the resistance from it. The willow wand was more passive, it was a tree that was not as hardy as Yew, it was symbolism for adjusting to life's paths, healing, and balance. Things that fit his mother a lot more than they did him. 

It was strange to him, but perhaps there was truth to the wand lore that he read even if it had seemed crazy. But a Yew very much represented Tom’s stubbornness to live despite the horrible things and near-death experiences that life kept sending him. He did not bend like the willow but just kept stubbornly pushing forward. 

~/*\~

The day arrived that Hermione had been dreading. She did not think that she would be as sad as she was to be taking Tom to Kings Cross station. It was a hard thought that this was the last breakfast that they would have together for a long time. 

Tom paused in his chewing. “Is there something wrong Mother?”

When did she become mother, and not Ma? 

She took the teacup into her hands and wrapped her hands around it. “No.” She smiled weakly “finish up your breakfast you have a train to catch.” 

Tom nodded putting another bite of egg into his mouth, his eyes not shying away from hers. He knew that something was bothering her. Tom wasn’t stupid. But he was so excited how could she not help but feel happy for him. Happy that he would start another chapter of his life. 

After breakfast she watched Tom shrink a couple more books and stuff them into his carry on bag. He was taking Hoots but that was it, he wanted to know for sure that Shani and Paws would be okay before he brought them. Paws was nervously sitting on the travel bags. She did not want to be left behind. 

Kings Cross was busy as it was when she had first stepped onto the platform for her first time to Hogwarts. Tom had for the first time in a while taken her hand, as he was looking around at all the Muggles and hopeful that none of the spells that they had to cloak them would cause an issue. Hermione could tell by the way that he held that he was reluctant to let go. He only did so when they had reached the Wizarding side. She felt his hand slip from hers and he tightened his hold on his trunk. 

The train whistled and people scurried about around them. Hermione felt her eyes moisten. She rubbed her index finger under her eye to catch the tears. 

“Ma.” He looked up at her, yes he was getting taller but he was still shorter than her. He was just below her shoulder but she was sure that he would be much taller than her soon. 

“I am going to miss you.” She did not hold back the way her voice wavered. “I held you from nearly the moment that you were born until you could walk and the most time that I have spent away from you has been 48 hours. Half a year is going to be very hard on me.”

She sniffed a tad. 

Tom blinked at her. “I could…” 

She held up her hand. “I am so proud of you.” She smiled, she did not have to force it at all, she reached down so that she could place both of her hands on his shoulders. “You have grown so much, and I know that you will be going off to have your own adventures and grow even more so.”

His brown eyes were looking into hers and while he was not crying he did seem to be able to feel how hard this was for her, and perhaps it was a little hard for him too.

She hugged him. “You will be a great wizard no matter what house chooses you. And no matter your grades or scores, I will always be proud that you are my son.” 

She let go of him and fixed him with the best smile that she could manage. “I would say be good, but I know that wouldn’t be any fun at all. So please just be mostly safe, and write to me.” 

“I will,” Tom promised. “I won’t look for trouble but will put an end to it if needed. You should also be safe, I know that you usually get into things you shouldn’t when I don’t stop you.” He hesitated. “I’ll write every week.” 

She felt herself smile more if that was even possible. “Good because I will be sending one every week regardless.” She did her best to straighten up and dry her tears. 

The whistle blew again and Hermione nodded to him. “Off you go, you don’t want to be trapped without a seat.” 

“Last Hug,” Tom yelled over the whistle and before she could say anything the wind had been nearly knocked out of her and Tom was running off to the nearest open door onto the train. Hoots screeching by the speed of being lugged up the stairs. 

She waited till he was out of sight to stop waving. It suddenly felt very empty by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 9,000 words long... so yes it took a while. Tom will be the main focus of the next chapter as this one was just loads of plot development. I'm sorry some things have to be done to set up stages for other more important and fun things.


	15. Part XV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at this another chapter. Well, I have to have something to do since everything is closed and the world is ending. 
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Tom felt the strap to his backpack, the rough texture helped to keep him grounded, moving. He had stuffed a lot of things into his small carry on bag because he knew that he would have to forfeit his trunk to one of the train staff members. There was everything that one would need for a long trip, snacks courtesy of Whimsy, books to read, his notebooks to draw in and write. He had to force his legs to move down the thin hallways. She stood on the platform waving at him, he could see her out of the corner of his eye. 

His mother…

She had been the person that he spent all his time with. She had taught him nearly everything that he knew. He took a deep breath. He would be fine. He could do this. He had to do this, school was his chance to grow and show everyone what he was really capable outside of her shadow. He would make her proud. She didn’t need anyone else but him. He was sure of it. 

So he took another deep breath and made his way through the train cars. He wasn’t nervous he knew about what to expect. He was strong, he knew that much like the wood that made up his wand, he would no matter what stand strong. It mattered not that he could be placed with those that had avoided him. He would be fine. 

There were a lot of cars, most of them were full. But he was able to put himself in an empty car towards the back of the train. He shut the glass door and sat on the red covered bench. He had never traveled by train before. He had never really been away from home and his mother for all that long either. 

He pulled his legs up off the floor so that he could sit cross-legged on the bench, he pulled out his notebook and some of his pencils. He could not imagine why anyone would want to use a quill instead of a pencil or pen. It was a lot easier and less likely to smear. He rummaged through his bag to try to find an eraser but found a book wrapped inside. One that he had not packed. 

\----For the Trip, Love Ma----

He bit his lip. She would be fine right? There was only so much trouble that she would be able to get into without him there. She promised to write. He peeled back the brown paper to reveal a beaten-up copy of The Hobbit. 

There was black writing on the inside that read ```To Hermione may you make your own adventures off at school. Love Mom.````

The writing was faint but he tapped it with his index finger. His grandmother had written in this book there was no doubt about it. He pushed his notebook to the side now intent on reading the book that he had been given. He read the chapter titles first. 

He traced the bends on the pages of the first chapter and wondered how many times his mother had read this book. How many times that she had possibly had it read to her?

He blinked. She did not read to him anymore. She used to do that all the time. He would bother her until she read him one of the books off of his shelves. He would force her to read ‘I want my hat back.’ And a few other great books like ‘the big angry crocodile.’ She had even read to him a series of unfortunate events when he had gotten older and could sit for things that had longer chapters. It was hard to picture that he would not be waking up in the morning and running downstairs to see Whimsy in the kitchen hunched over a pot or his mother in the study scribbling away. 

Now he just felt a bit tired. The train lurched to life and he hit the back of his head on the wall. He rubbed it and looked out in the hall where there were people that were still trying to find cars. He could see the golden-white hair and it was impossible not to know who it was with his nice robes. Abraxas. He was talking with Avery and laughing about something. 

Abraxas turned and looked at him. Tom looked back holding his book a little tighter, as the other went from looking a little shocked to addressing his group loud enough for Tom to hear. 

“There is probably an open car towards the front of the train.” They started moving again and that really awful feeling that he had when he looked at the stack of Abraxas old letters he kept in a box under the bed came back to him. 

Instead of being as hurt by it. He just felt angry. Tom was a good person. He was smart. He was kind if he had to be, and he had always been respectful to Abraxas. He had played the game that was expected of a friend to play and yet he was left in the cold. He felt a bit of anger surge through him and he had to take a few breaths as not to just let his magic go wild. Tom narrowed his eyes as the other looked back at him. They certainly were not friends. Tom never would want anything to do with him again. He would burn the letters when he got home. Burn them into a fine powder and then maybe sprinkle that into Abraxas’s morning tea. He could then choke on all those nice words he wrote. 

He didn’t need friends. He had his mother, Whimsy, and Lavorx there was no one else that was needed. He would just ignore everyone when he got to school, gain his house points, study hard, and work on his own theories for potions. He would prove to anyone that mattered that he could be great and not just because he was his mother’s son.

He lost his interest in reading. 

He opted to look out the train window, his notebook open and ready if he needed to put anything into writing. 

The door to his car slid open. 

“I am glad that there is room in this car.” A boy with brown curly hair had entered the car. He smiled widely at Tom as he sat on the other side by the window. Tom sighed and went back to looking out the window, it looked like his trip was about to get more annoying. 

“My name is Edgar Smith. It's nice to meet you, are you a first-year as well?” 

Tom rolled his eyes. “I’m not wearing robes that have a house on them so that's probably a safe bet.” 

“Yeah but not everyone wants to change into robes right away, I mean I do have some and everything but they are a bit strange you know. I never had to wear anything like them before.” Edgar shrugged and his longer hair bobbed as he did so. “Not that I am opposed to wearing them. I think that they could be stylish. I just liked my shorts and sweaters you know?” 

Tom did not say anything and Edgar just smiled a bit larger. “When I went shopping for the first time in Diagon Alley I got to meet Goblins and they were a lot smaller than I thought they would be based on the fantasy novels that I have read. I think it's a bit weird that we use gold coins, but I suppose that they don’t lose value that way.” 

Tom gripped his pant leg a little harder. This was probably why people did not like Muggle borns; they had no idea how the Wizarding World worked. He could see this being tiring for some people, no reason to hate every single one of them, it was the ministry's fault for not educating them. But still tiring nonetheless.

“You really shouldn’t tell them that,” Tom said, annoyed. 

“Tell who what?” Edgar tilted his head. 

“Goblins don’t like when people comment on how small they are, they find it rude.” Tom let out a deep sigh. This Edgar was really childlike. He wondered if all his classmates would be like this. 

“Oh…” Edgar deflated. “I did not think that it would be offensive, do you think that Grippet would like me to send him a letter as an apology.” 

Tom was pretty sure that would just annoy Grippet more as he would have to waste his time opening it and reading it when it had nothing to do with work. Goblins held strong grudges even against their own kind. It would only serve to put Edgar in a worse position.

“I would just be more respectful of them the next time that you have to go to the bank.” Tom offered going back to looking out the window.

“Okay.” Edgar smiled relieved. “Are you excited for school?”

Tom took another deep breath and his eyes shifted over to where Edgar was. His green eyes were wild and shiny almost like Whimsy’s when she was really happy about something. 

“Sure.” He offered up. He didn’t know why he was playing along. He could just tell the other boy that he did not want to talk. It was a long train ride and if it was spent quietly it would be a lot better for Tom and consequently Edgar because eventually, Tom would say something cutting to get him to just shut up. 

“You don’t sound it.” Edgar played with the thread that was on his seat. “Are you going to miss your family too? I know that mine might be in trouble without me there to help out, but going off to school is not something that I had a chance of really doing before. School is expensive and I had to work the fields a lot. But Dumbledore came to my home and offered me money to go to school and to get my own supplies.” Edgar was all smiles again. “So I have a chance, see if I get a degree I can provide for my parents and siblings.” 

Tom rubbed at his face a little. This was going to be a very long trip. And he could do without being stuck with someone that actually liked Dumbledore. 

~/*\~

Tom did his best to tune out Edgar but he was persistent in trying to get Tom to communicate and join into the one-sided conversation. Tom did answer some of his questions just so that the other could ramble on about something else. Tom had not thought that it was possible to be so optimistic it was sickening. He just went on and on and Edgar seemed to find at least some bright side to everything about the world. Tom had always held the belief that the world was cruel and that there were few good people in it. Now he was beginning to think that the world was still cruel but most people were idiots and there were far less people that were smart enough to carry conversations with. 

He watched the storm clouds crossing the skyline. They were dark and purple and angry. Tom wondered when they would get there and if it would start to rain before or after they arrived. Edgar wore himself down to being quiet. He started reading something that looked colorful and had lots of pictures. 

Edgar handed him over one. “I really like comic books. I am not sure if you have ever read them but my favorite hero is Superman from action comics. I've got the last few months' issues with me. I also have some detective comics.” 

Tom turned it over in his hands. There was a picture of someone wearing strange clothes lifting up a car with strength alone on the cover. 

“Superman?” He muttered, flipping to the first page and starting to teach himself the unique format. 

“I started you on the origin story.” Edgar looked pleased with himself as he opened his again. “Let me know if you like it…” He trailed off. “You did not tell me your name.” 

Tom supposed he at least owed him that for giving him something different to read than what he was used to. “Tomas.” 

“Tommy.” Edger nodded. 

“Don’t call me that.” Tom grit his teeth. “That sounds like something that a person would call their dog.” 

He detested that nickname, it was very childish. How was he to be taken seriously at work when people like Oswin were calling him Tommy?

“Sorry... Tomas.” Edgar stumbled over it a bit. 

Tom nodded, accepting it, letting out his breath through his nose, not feeling bad form making the other frown but he had really not cared all that much for his full name. That had to be the reason that he opened his mouth to fix the problem. “If you must shorten my name, or lengthen it with more letters you might as well just call me Tom.” 

“Tom.” Edgar smiled again this time not as wide but definitely was there. “Some people call me Eddy.”

“Like I asked.” Tom rolled his eyes. “That sounds ridiculous Edgar is only 5 letters and that shortens it to four.” 

“And yours went from 5 to 3.” Edgar folded his arms in a manner that was a little unexpected. 

Tom might have misjudged him, but he still was really annoying. 

~/*\~

As the train stopped Tom practically leaped out of his seat. It would be good to get off the train and move around. And to his horror, it was Dumbledore that faced him. He was holding an umbrella as it looked like it was going to rain. He smiled a little at him and Tom frowned instantly. His stopping allowed for Edgar to catch up with him. He knew that he would have to face the other, but he had not expected it to be so soon. Dumbledore was not someone that Tom wanted anything to do with. He had barged into their home. His mother had been scared of him. She had taught him some tricks to try to protect his mind as the old man had a habit of prying into people's heads. 

“Almost lost you.” The taller boy panted. “I’m glad that you waited for me.” 

Tom turned to him and sighed a little. There probably was no way to ditch him now. And being rude to the boy would ensure that he didn’t learn anything else about comics. He could play nice he supposed for now. “You can’t lose me that easily, I am the only one with a backpack.” 

“True.” Edgar spent the next few seconds sucking in air. There were a few people looking at them, but Tom just put on his best mask and watched them pass him. His cold face kept most of them away. He caught sight of Walburga and she quickly turned away from him, Dianna helping to steer her clear. 

He did his best not to let his face change. She was just as bad. Maybe she could choke on her words too.

“Girls are weird,” Edgar said, nearly making him jump with the hand that was on his shoulder. It was very quick at getting him to shut down his plot. “She was giving you quite the look.” 

“I know her or used to,” Tom muttered prying the fingers off of him and taking a step back. 

“Got yah not a big fan of physical contact, next time just ask and I will remove my hand.” Edgar pretended to be rubbing his fingers as if Tom had actually hurt him. 

Tom sighed again, this was going to become a habit with Edgar around he could tell. Maybe if he was lucky they would not be in the same house and he would not share that many classes with him. 

“Attention all first years,” Dumbledore spoke loudly using his wand as an amplifier. “Please line up so that I may escort you to the boats that will take you to the castle.”

No one had said anything about boats. Tom frowned as people started to cluster around him, shoving to get closer to Dumbledore. Tom was not a fan of water. He had almost drowned when he was attempting to learn how to swim. He might not be scared of it. But the near-death experience did not exactly make him the biggest fan. By Edgar’s face, he was not a fan of boats either.

They were broken up into groups of four. A girl that was about his height joined them. She had her hair tied up into 2 pigtails he believed the term was and had thick glasses. She smiled shyly at them as she made her way into the small boat. Tom held onto the side as it rocked just a tad by the movement. 

He glared at the girl but she did not seem to notice, and the boat started to move by itself. 

“I’m happy that we don’t have to row,” Edgar said to both of them or to just Tom, he did not know. 

But the girl nodded and answered so Tom would not have to. “I am glad, but what do you expect from magic?” 

Edgar shrugged. “I expect a lot.” 

Tom focused on the sky after that, tuning out what they were saying in favor of watching those around them. The sky overhead was still threatening rain and Tom was happy that he had asked his mother to waterproof his bag for him before he left. He was probably going to be rained on and he at least would have all his books safe inside of his bag. 

The castle was impressive, large and on the far bank. The light from candles in the windows flickered as the wind whipped against some of the open windows. 

The sky opened up about halfway across the water. Tom took out an umbrella from the side of his bag. He waved his hand and the small thing grew bigger. He then popped it open and tilted it as not to hit those in the boat but also keep him from getting soaked. Edgar moved closer to him, and Tom sighed holding it a bit higher as to cover the both of them. Edgar looked at the girl and then back at Tom. 

“Godric, fine. You can get under it too.” He motioned for the girl. 

She was already pretty wet and she looked harshly at him a second as if judging his very soul. He was tempted to tell her to just forget it before she moved and the boat tipped a little as she pressed herself close to him.

He had never had another person this close to him before. His face heated a little as he did not know what to do about his hands so he just gripped them both onto the umbrella. 

“Thanks.” The girl finally said. “My name's Myrtle Warren.” 

“Tomas Granger.” He muttered. “And the idiot next to me is Edgar.” 

Edgar waved a little, not at all offended. “Don’t mind Tom, he's a bit of a prickly pear.” 

“I am not.” Tom snapped. 

“See.” Edgar smiled as Tom elbowed him hard. 

Myrtle just laughed softly behind her hand. 

The rain pelted the umbrella and threatened once to turn it inside out but Edgar did his best to help hold it steady sacrificing one of his sleeves. Tom supposed that he should just be grateful that he wasn’t cold with the both of them pressed tightly against him.

“This was a one-time thing.” Tom shook the umbrella out as they entered the castle. 

“Whatever you say.” Edgar shrugged, not at all phased by him. 

“I would never have done it if you didn’t look like I took your cat from you.” Tom folded his arms tightly defensively. Egar was just too odd. He was throwing him through loops. He needed to focus or everyone around here would think that he was soft and that they could get to him. 

Dumbledore was drying his robes and starting to group them again. 

“Hey, Tomas.” A voice called from behind him. He turned to see Avery. “Is it true that your mother hires werewolves?” 

Tom did not say anything to that, it was some sort of trap because others were falling behind Dumbledore as he started talking about the sorting ceremony were looking at him. No staring, their eyes judgemental. He just turned his back on Avery and took a few steps forward. He did not let his face show anything. 

“I bet it's true, does she howl for them on the nights that aren’t the full moon?” 

Tom paused in his movement and turned. He felt hot at that comment but he did his best not to show it. 

“Avery.” He smiled slightly, “still thinking you’re better than anyone less than a pureblood? I bet that worked out real well for your family when the inclusion act passed last spring. Now you have to hire those that you don’t think are as good as you and pay them the rightful amount. Last I heard your family got hit with a fine for mistreating their workers, something about cursing their families if they tried to file lawsuits. But I am sure that's all speculation as well. ” 

He did not look back after that. He pushed his way up towards the front of the mob of students and lost Myrtle and Edgar to the waves of people around him. There were a lot of first years, maybe 60 of them all ready to enter a doorway that was large and wooden, there were black-trimmed metal designs that reached upward at least 15 ft. 

Tom knew what was beyond those doors was the great hall and when they entered they would have the sorting hat placed upon their heads. It would tell them where they were going to spend the next 7 years. 

Tom did not want to get stuck in a bad house, as they entered the hall there was cheering and clapping from the diffrent houses. Tom looked around at the different banners; there were four, but they were colorful and bright in the candle lighting. Hundreds of floating candles drifted around a night sky that was so large, vast, and pure that it looked like it touched the heavens. Tom knew that it was an enchantment; it was not the real thing. But it looked that way, it looked as real as the stars that were around twinkled and reminded him so much of his home. 

He felt a slight stab at that sharp and in his chest, though he had never really felt that feeling before. He tugged his eyes back towards the front of the room. There were a couple of steps that led to a long table that had staff. Placed in front of it was the stool and the hat. It was an old leather thing that looked like it was frowning and the fold made angry-looking eyes. 

Tom felt someone bump into him and noticed that it was Abraxas he did not apologize and Tom really wished that he had those letters to burn. 

Dumbledore started calling names. It seemed that they were in alphabetical order. The hat rested on each person that went up there’s head. It sat longer on some than others before calling out a house name loudly. 

Finally, his name was called. “Tomas R. Granger.” The name rolled off the older wizards tongue and Tom felt all the eyes swing to him. There were whispers that started. He could make out some that were talking to the others that did not know who he was. Who he was related to. 

He sat onto the stool, he could feel the old wood beneath him. It was much like the stool at home that he spent most of his childhood balancing on. He gripped it a little like one would a wand, tight but loose enough to allow for movement. Just as his mother had always told him. The hat was placed on his head he could feel the slight weight to it, and then he felt a slight push on his head and on his mind. He closed his eyes and breathed. It was how you stopped an intruder that went into your head. 

```Your walls will not keep me out boy, and you have nothing to fear from me.``` 

There was a soft voice that entered his head. It was not painful, and it was not whispery like that of a snake's voice. 

`It must be able to talk.`

```Yes I can hear your thoughts, I can read your memories and your truest desires.````

The hat seemed to purr that to him with its voice that rumbled and strained against the stitches that threaded it together. 

He took another deep breath trying to calm his mind. 

````You don’t have to try to hide from me, we can speak and I shall not repeat anything that you think. I shall offer you this Tomas or Tom as you prefer. You have an interesting mind. Complex as is your heart, though I feel almost as if I know you, remember you, have sorted you before. You are so much like someone else, but with key differences.````

`Who?’ Tom could not help but think. 

The hat ignored him. ```But you are not him, or not so anymore. So where to put you?```

It shifted. He could feel it moving on his head and he did not dare to open his eyes because he did not want to see others looking at him.

```` You have bravery in you, not much but it is there. It holds fast and sure to the strong morals that you hold close to your chest. You value others while not as much as you do yourself. You do wish to protect those that are close to you and have wished to act, be recklessly, to protect them. You also wish to treat others with decency as long as they do so to you and yours. Gryffindor is home to those that are Daring, whether it be so with their dreams or with their actions.````

Yes, Tom did want to protect his mother and the other people that worked for them. He liked to think that it was a good person's job to protect those that were weaker than them. It had been why he had not called Whimsy when he had run from John. they could have hurt her before she could attack them back with magic. He also wished to keep his mother safe from people like Dumbledore that thought that they could barge into their home and threaten them. 

````But what about Ravenclaw? Hmmm?```` The hat hummed. ```` You have a thirst for knowledge enough to break rules in order to get to it. You know spells and potions that are leagues ahead of your classmates. Ravenclaws can hold steadfast to their opinions and you have some strong opinions on things, they are rooted down to your very core.```

Tom took another deep breath. He did not like the way that the room was quiet but for some murmuring. 

‘Was it taking too long?’

````Ah yes and Hufflepuff, a house some may underappreciate. They value being kind, hardworking, and being protective of friends. The house of loyalty and caring. You, Tom, have a strong sense of loyalty to family, and while not often kind you can find it in your heart to help others even when there is nothing to be gained from it.````

‘That leaves Slytherin.’ 

````Yes that leaves the last house Slytherin. A house that your very blood symbolizes and values ambition, cunning, and self-preservation. Your strongest trait is perhaps two of their key values. You are ambitious, you seek more than anything to succeed in anything that you wish to learn and while that may share qualities with that of a Ravenclaw I see your cunning as a way to think outside of the box to reach those goals.```

The hat hummed but where to put you is the real question. ````So much talent that I do not wish to waste.````

‘Don’t put me somewhere I can not grow.’ Tom demanded of the hat. `Do not place me where I can not learn something.`

The hat moved again, the brim moving up as if it was smiling at him. 

````Gryffindors are passionate, but they can also be transparent; they wear their hearts on their sleeves, they will have no interest in playing games of mind or politics. Logical argument is not what you would find there. Nor are you one to show all of your emotions, you try to keep them all in check and balanced. You will not find as many level heads in Gryffindor. You have been impulsive in your past and you seek to have more consideration of consequences as those have burned you before and you shall not find like minds in this house for they have a tendency to rush in. So I shall not place you with lions even if the one you call mother certainly was one.````

‘I didn’t want to be placed there. I heard they can be arrogant.’

The hat laughed at that. It was loud and Tom was sure that it was not just in his head. 

````But Tom you are also very arrogant, you have talent, yes but you seem to overvalue yourself. Perhaps Hufflepuff could teach you some humility. However, they value loyalty and care. It comes with trusting people easily and being welcoming to others. You do not trust anyone with the exception of your mother. You can be judgemental and friendship is not that important to you. While I think that you should learn to care for others, I think placing you there would stunt your growth as it would be near impossible for you to bond with them over anything other than hard work.```` 

“It's a hat stall.” Someone said loud enough for him to hear them. 

“It can't pick him a house.” Said another. 

Whispers started to become louder. 

```Ignore them.```` The hat continued as if not bothered at all that it was drawing out the sorting process for others. `````where were we?````

‘You were saying I would make a bad Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. I could have told you that.’

````Yes you are very prideful.`````

‘I am not, I just have a lot of life experience and talents as you have mentioned.’

```Ravenclaw would not suit you now that I think of it; they are not passionate or emotionally driven. Ravenclaws find their motivation in logic and academic argumentation. And find it difficult to take things at face value or as a matter of blind faith, they must be able to explain intellectually the reason for any system of beliefs and while that very may well suit you, Tomas, you are very passionate even for things that do not just become restricted by logic or knowledge.````

‘Don’t place me in Slytherin.’ Tom instantly thought it. ‘Don’t place me in the house of purebloods.’ 

He had not thought about it before but Avery was placed into Slytherin, so was Dianna, Walbrurga, Lestrange and the others. He did not want to be placed with them. 

```` I think that this house suits you best. You have already tried to outwit me by pulling up memories in which would say that you are another house. A Slytherins strength is in their wit, and they are able to succeed by outwitting others. You have shown mastery of this, to any that would seek to harm your family and its business. Slytherins consider every possibility and determine the best course of action based on all the options; this makes a Slytherin an excellent strategist, even if it is mostly to reach their own ends. Which you again have demonstrated with your need to make the business succeed. You helped choose all the staff, and the building plans. You hate cutting corners and are meticulous in all of your notes and studies. Nothing is of greater importance to a Slytherin than achieving goals, and they will not bow to morality or ethics if it inhibits that ability.`````

‘No, I don’t want to be with them.’ Tom thought angrily. 

`````Then perhaps this is what you truly need to learn and it is the best place to put you. Slytherins sometimes have to work together and get along with people that they don't particularly like. ````

‘They have no loyalty.` Tom tried to argue. 

```In personal relationships, a Slytherin’s loyalty is strong but different from that of the Hufflepuff’s. Slytherins are dedicated to a friend’s best interest rather than the relationship itself. And I can tell by your interactions with your mother that you wish to protect her even against what she truly wants. It is in her best interest that you do not let her hire all the ‘strays though her heart would say otherwise.````

“No.” Tom actually said it out loud but he was sure that it was soft enough that no one else could hear.

‘Please.’ He thought hard. ‘Certainly, I can fit somewhere else.’

````While I do sometimes take into consideration student’s wishes when it is particularly difficult to place them there is a difference in what someone wants and what they need and what suits them. It is why students do not just pick and choose their houses all Willy nilly as they say. 

“Better be….” It spoke out loud.

‘No.’ Tom thought hard ‘don’t.’ 

Slytherin the hat cried out and Tom sat there only a second longer as Dumbledore took the hat off of his head. He had a slight frown on his face. And Tom slowly made his way to the Slytherin table picking a spot that was away from most other people and glaring daggers at the hat for placing him in the pit of snakes.

He would he supposed have to be a viper among garters. If there was one thing that he was good at it was surviving. 

~/*\~

It was unsurprising when Abraxas was also sorted into Slytherin. Myrtle was sent to Ravenclaw and Edgar was the only other hat stall. It was not as long as he was but soon he was placed into Hufflepuff. He made his seat so that it was as close as his table would allow if he were to turn on the bench to sit across from Tom. He was smiling as he did try to converse with his housemates. 

Tom did not bother to try. He wished the hat placed him in Ravenclaw, he at last could be away from Abraxas that kept looking back at him as he sat with the others. Tom eventually figured that no one wanted to talk to him, or perhaps his frowning demeanor was keeping them from him. So he pulled out a book and ignored the rest of the sorting ceremony. He also ignored the basic rules, and the welcome speech. He poked at his food, but did not really want to eat anything. Even if he was sure that it tasted fine. 

~/*\~ 

Professor Slughorn was his head of house. He gave a small speech about getting along, and how Slytherin house did have a reputation of the untrustworthy house so it was up to Slytherins to stick together. Tom had a feeling that Abraxas and the others would not have to worry about that rule. 

Loyalty didn’t feel like something that they were capable of, but that was probably his own tainted view of the house. The hat had placed him here for a reason. And if he was going to survive then he would have to be the viper that was either quick and ate the garters before their numbers swarmed him or he would have to pretend to be a garter and bare his fangs only when it mattered. 

Yes he could pretend to be friendly and kind. It was not too hard. But if one of them thought that he would let them hold it over his head that he was a half-blood he would show them. Perhaps not openly, he needed to think carefully, cunning, and awareness of consequences. He could try to win over perhaps some of the older members of his house. Ones that were not as tainted by relations with Malfoy and Black. 

So that was his first goal. Either make decent allies out of older students that were not pureblood idiots or make good relations to those that were not in his house while doing what he could to mitigate the issues with the people in his house. 

It was not going to be easy; his roommates included Abraxas, Avery, and Mulciber. The four of them had their own room in the far corner right of the girl's side and right by the stairs where Tom was sure that they would hear everyone above them in the common room, and anyone that went down the stairs to get to their rooms. It was small but well furnished, they had no window view but that was alright. Tom took the far corner as it put the bed against the wall and he could push his truck flat under the bed and against the wall. It would make it harder for someone to get to, as there was one way to slide under and one way out. The trunk would house his books. The dresser bottom drawers clothes and the top one school supplies.

He set about using basic cleaning charms, and then drawing wards into small pieces of paper and taping them on his things. He was not able to do great charms like his mother but the paper would tell him if anyone tried to mess with his things and it was the easiest and simplest of wards.

“Don’t trust us already?” Mulciber asked watching Tom set about his task. 

“I don’t trust anyone.” Tom said plainly, “and I just do not wish anyone to mess with my things if they enter the room. It doesn't necessarily mean that one of you will try anything.” 

Mulciber shrugged. “If I ask really nicely, would you put those up on my things, I don’t trust Avery to keep his grubby paws off my supplies as he loses things pretty easily.” 

Tom hesitated, this could help to build relations, but he would be using up some of his supplies he might need later, he had not packed all that much tape and had not mastered sticking charms. 

“I can, but not till I am done with mine.” 

He had offered an olive branch. If this boy decided to be a problem, Tom could always tamper with the wards to get back at him and take some of the supplies, Avery would make a nice scapegoat for the actions. He turned back to his work. When he was satisfied he emptied his small backpack first. Placing his notebooks onto the desk with his pens, pencils, and other art supplies. He then stacked the few books on the bed that he had made. Making sure to keep the Hobbit on top as to make sure that he did not put it away. 

He opened his trunk and there was a loud hiss. 

Oh no.

Shani exited the trunk with a quick movement pulling herself though the crevice and wrapping herself tightly around him.

~You thought you could leave me, silly hatchling, I will not leave you unguarded.~ She wrestled him. 

~You were supposed to stay at home. I don’t know if it is safe here for you.~ Tom hissed back at her annoyed but not terribly surprised that she did not listen to him. Snakes were in their own minds always in the right no matter how stupid that right may seem to others. 

~All the more reason.~ The great snake bobbed her head to him.

He sighed deeply. He could already see his mother panicking because she had no idea where Shani was. ~I asked you to take care of Ma.~ 

~She can take care of herself, you are still little, and can not hunt properly. I know the weird-smelling man lives here, you will not fall prey.~

He rubbed at his face. ~You can stay if you behave.~ 

~~Yesssss~ She hissed pulling herself a little way from him and tilting her head to the only other person in the room. 

Godric! He had forgotten that Mulciuber was still in the room. 

“You can talk to snakes.” He was in awe. “The greatest of the founders could talk to snakes.” 

“It's not a big deal.” Tom shrugged, trying to downplay it, still not sure that he wanted everyone to know. “I did not want to bring her but she decided to stow away, I can shrink her and she won’t be as big.” 

“No way, she is really cool.” Mulciber got up so that he could get closer, not at all bothered when Shani turned and lowered herself to a possible strike. “She could be like a mascot. She is really like the silver snake on our banners.”

~Don’t look so smug.~ He hissed at Shani that soaked up all the attention that she could from Mulciuber that could possibly be considered won partially over. 

Mulciber looked at him. 

“I told her your name.” He lied.  
“What’s her name then.” Mulciber seemed pleased that Shani was playing along. She would bite the second that she thought there was an actual risk to Tom.

“Shani.” He said simply. 

There was a slight thud that made them both turn. Abraxas was in the doorway with Avery and they both must have at least heard some of it. 

“Tomas can talk to snakes,” Mulciber said excitedly. 

Abraxas looked from Tom to Shani. 

Tom straightened up. “Abraxas you remember Shani.” 

The blond nodded. “She was smaller then.” He sounded a tad nervous, perhaps he could use that to his advantage. 

“She’s 6ft now, soon to be 8ft and full-grown,” Tom said rather proudly. “Don’t worry though I am going to shrink her down and put her in a tank. She won’t do anything Malicious unless I asked that of her, which I wouldn’t.” 

Mulciber smiled standing up brushing back his black hair that was a bit over his shoulders out of his face. “Tom can also ward things, and he promised toward my side of the room, so you better not try to take anything Avery.” 

“You can ward things?” Avery sounded impressed possibly enough to forget the earlier slight against him. Tom wouldn’t be counting on that though so he would make a couple fake ward symbols to make them extra cautious about messing with his things or him. 

He wouldn’t give any of the 3 trust anytime soon. 

“I know a lot of things,” Tom said smartly and decided to leave it at that. 

Abraxas was the only one that looked extremely uncomfortable.

~/*\~

Hermione had spent the whole day looking for Shani. She had looked under beds, among the shrubs in the garden and in the laundry basket that she sometimes hid in. She had not expected that day after she dropped Tom off she would be receiving a letter from him. 

\--- Made it into Slytherin house and Shani stowed away in my trunk. I will bring her home for Yule. Tom--- 

She sighed deeply feeling immense relief at not having to explain to Tom that one of his pets had just run away or was lost somewhere. There was not much in the area that could eat a 6ft snake but she didn’t want to put it past the realm of possibility that something could get to Shani knowing her luck.  
Still even though she had a slight smile at the small note that he had sent her, she still felt that little tug at her chest as she sat at the dinner table with just Whimsy.

“Mistress, If Whimsy may so. “She thinks that you can use the free time that Master Tomas is at school to form other hobbies outside of work. Miss has always put Master Tomas first and has put off many things that might make her happy. Whimsy recommends that she make friends and possibly more.” 

“You mean date.” She sighed. She had been out of the dating game for a long time. She could not deny that she missed Ron more so some mornings and evenings that others. She had shoved that feeling way down, as she had not wanted to seek out others. She had noticed how needy Tom was when it came to attention and affection and she had feared that he would react poorly to another person added to their small family. But that had only been part of it. She knew that it had been 11 years, she was aware of it whenever that summer’s eve would pass, but even though it had been so long she felt that it was almost cheating on him to consider another. Ron had been her only love and she did not think that she could ever give herself over to someone completely the way that she had him. 

She felt to date another would be like when she had dated Viktor where she had liked him a lot but she knew that there was just a small disconnect between them. Maybe in time, she could have returned his affections in a way that was similar to his need, but she had always felt that she was letting him down somehow. And there had always been those that were following them around and whispering hurtful things. 

Whoever she dated they had to love Tom and Tom had to be able to at least like them. She would not deny that it would be a large turn off for most suiters that she had a son that was that old. She didn’t even know if she wanted anyone to date her. She could try she could always break things off if it did not work out. 

She nodded to herself. “I can try that Whimsy, but it will have to be after I do my best to stop this Werewolf bill from passing.” 

Whimsy nodded accepting this. “Mistress can use her luncheons with the other higher up ladies and men that attend them to both networks and scope out possible dating partners.” 

Hermione sighed, her life must have been a bit sad if even her elf was pushing her to pursue a relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we are set for an interesting first year at school for Tom and an interesting year at home for Hermione. 
> 
> ＼(▽￣＼(￣▽￣)／￣▽)／ I sprinkled plot hints all over this chapter, well see if anyone figures some fun things out from it before the next chapter sets more of it up. I might have to add more chapters... well see... 
> 
> ♥ See you all soon ♥


	16. Part XVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to where certain plot points are going to hit. And perhaps hit hard…? 
> 
> Some predictions are very accurate! 
> 
> I love them! 
> 
> (〜￣▽￣)~

Tom looked over his time table carefully Professor Slughorn had handed him. He had Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Flying for a 6-week course, Herbology, Transfiguration, Potions, History of Magic, and Care for Magical Creatures. He flipped through noting the houses that he would be with the Hufflepuffs was Herbology and Charms. He would be with the Ravenclaws for Potions and Defense. And the Gryffindors for History of Magic, Flying, and Transfiguration. 

He had Herbology first and he could already see that Edgar was excited about the prospect. He was pointing at his schedule and beaming at him. Rosier and a few of the others were glaring daggers at Edgar it seemed for making the effort to wave at Tom. 

Tom would not pretend to know where he was in the hierarchy of the house of Slytherin. Purebloods were on top it seemed as they were the ones that directed conversation in the common room and at the table. Muggle-borns were at the bottom of that he was certain, and half-bloods were scattered somewhere in the middle. It was all about connections, family lineage, and blood. Not that Tom cared for how they thought that the social pyramid should go. He much like his mother was not one for social norms and would end up breaking the system sooner than later. 

He was a viper that was laying low for now, learning. He had convinced his roommates to keep it to themselves that he could speak to snakes by providing them wards to their things. And by convincing them he really just had caused them to whisper about it softly among those that they thought wanted to know. Wards that he assured them that not even he would not be able to breach should they not want it, he also helped Avery set up some silencing charms so that they did not have to hear the older housemates catching up in the common room. Now he had lied very easily about the wards, it would be easy to disrupt them being the one that put them in place. But he liked to let them think that he had done something very worth their while in exchange for them not telling anyone else about his pet snake. Which was the only detail that they were not sharing because they liked the idea that Tom had something that was pretty, rare, and let them pet if he was there with them. 

Shani was playing along well. She though did tell Tom that she would bite them hard if they crossed the wards without him there. Tom unlike the other boys would know for sure who crossed besides the warning that something was missing and allow for him to track it. Shani would tell him. She was ever watchful and she wanted to be out with him, curled around his arm or in his pocket should he ever need her. Tom was not sure about letting her out of the room yet. 

Edgar waved again as the bells started ringing signaling that they should start heading to classes. Being associated with someone that was Muggle-born in Slytherin house would be certain death of one’s respectability and would condemn them to not making many friends among snakes. 

“Ignore him is my advice.” A boy that was a little older than him said when he stood up. “He won’t help your standing. There are quite a few questioning if you belong with us already.”

Tom narrowed his eyes slightly. “The hat chose this house for me. If there is any reason I don’t belong it is because you all are making and looking for reasons.” 

He did not get a response for that one and headed to the Herbology greenhouse. Egar quickly stepped into stride with him. Tom knew that it wouldn’t do him any favors but he really didn’t care. He could do what he liked and if it upset them all so much that he was friendly with Muggle-borns than perhaps those would be the ones that he recruited. There were enough of them in his own house, and certainly, a few half-bloods that disagreed with the system. It would also drive his roommates a bit mad to be associated with him. They would be living with him for the next what was it 7 years. 

With that in mind, he slowed down just slightly to allow for Edgar to walk comfortably next to him. 

“Hey Tom.” He smiled brightly, “How was your first night in the castle? I think that the rooms in my dorm are a bit too yellow, but it really has a nice view of the courtyard. I think that the fireplace will be very nice come winter.”

As he paused to take a breath, Tom answered his original question shrugging. “It was eventful.” Edgar waited for him to elaborate but he did not say anything else. 

“I tried to talk to the others about superheroes, but they did not seem all that interested. A lot of people are more interested in learning magic and speculating what we will learn this year.”

“They could find out if they cracked their textbooks open,” Tom said dryly. “Or better yet read the syllabus that was given to parents from the teachers.” 

Edgar shrugged. “I mean we could but I think that surprises are a bit more fun.” 

“You mean that your lot wanted to be lazy.” Tom shook his head. “I suppose that my housemates are not better. They did not seem to do any summer prep work.” 

He let Edgar talk a bit about his summer. He lived just outside of Liverpool. They grew some simple crops there and sent them to the city to sell. He was worried about his sister as she would have to do some of the chores alone. 

Tom had only added in to ask if he thought that his sister would be magical as well and Edgar said that he didn’t know. She was 8 but unlike him when he was her age she did not seem to have any accidents. His older siblings were already past the age to worry about having magic. They made it to the greenhouse just as the last chime was sounding. 

Professor Herbert Beery was a shorter man, his face covered by a large beard that was tied with some sort of beaded band, that looked to have been enchanted to glow in the late summer sun. He wasted no time getting class started with a tour of the greenhouse, the tool shed, and going over rules in a manner that was anything but exciting. He seemed like the sort that had been teaching too long and as such, he made it clear that this was a no-nonsense sort of class. For Homework, he passed them out printed copies of the safety guide, so they could read it yet again, and they had to sign it to double make sure that they were aware of everything. 

Tom was bored out of his mind as the rules were things that he had been aware of since he was four. History of Magic was not much better. Binns was so old that one would have thought that he could hardly stand let alone teach. He spoke in a voice that was so monotone that it had a few of the Gryffindors almost asleep only 10 minutes into class. 

Tom did not want to be rude but he thought that just reading his textbook would be more insightful than trying to wait for the man to finish his long-winded thoughts that were full of information that one certainly did not need and only served to make even someone as smart as him confused. 

He balanced his textbook on the desk so that he could read ahead and then make his own notes. By the end of the hour, Tom was on chapter 3 and Binns had just made it to page four. He could have left Mulciber after the bell rang like the others, but unlike his other 2 roommates, he was not on Tom’s hit list, at least not yet.

“Thanks.” Mulciber rubbed at his eyes. “That man can drone on.” 

Binns must have been hard of hearing or did not care to comment on that. 

Tom just nodded his head as they headed back towards the great hall. It was a long walk from the far tower there and they were quiet for most of it. But before they turned the last bend that would take them inside Mulciber turned to him. 

“I know you don’t want the world that you talk to snakes, but you should probably look into your lineage. The gifts are not common and I should have paid more attention to what my family said in the tutoring sessions about bloodlines. But I know that they are all descended from Salazar Slytherin himself and if you could prove that it would really help with people like Avery.” 

Tom already knew that it was a possibility everyone was thinking to remind him of that or whispering it to themselves as he passed them. He did not really care who he was related to, he knew the people that mattered knew that there was more to him than that. 

“I don’t need blood to prove that I am better than Avery,” Tom said darkly. “I just know I am.” 

“But the others will not see it that way. No offense Tomas but all they will see is a delusional half-blood whose mother thinks she can make big changes.”

“She has made big changes.” Tom took in a deep breath trying to control his dislike to be thought of in such a manner. “And you all know it.” 

Mulciber mockingly held up his hands. “I’m not saying she hasn’t figured things out that others haven’t been able to. But the saying goes that there are exceptions to every rule.”

Tom didn’t want to hear that either. “Blood is nothing and one day it will be proven. I want to see people that think those things when that happens flounder about.” 

“You shouldn’t say things like that, because I don’t hate you I think that it's a good idea to warn you.” Mulciber's face became really serious, he pulled on Tom’s arm a little ducking them down into an alcove so that they were hidden by the pillar that held up a fire basin. “There are things stirring Granger bad things, people that have higher blood status are taking notice. There will be a war in the Muggle world soon, but there are rumors of another that will take place on the Wizard front. And you really don’t want to be on the wrong side when that happens. It might already be too late for your mother but not for you.” 

Tom pulled his arm loose and shoved Mulciber away from him. “I would never side with people that think that they are superior just because of who they were born to. I will not join a side that murdered my father and wants to do the same to my mother just because she challenges them.” 

Mulciber sneered. “No wonder the hat stalled, you are a fucking Gryffindor. Don’t come crawling to me when things get bad.” 

“I will never crawl for anyone.” Tom shoved past him and headed into the great hall. Catching his breath only once he was sitting in his far corner. He took a few bites of food before rushing off to find a safe place to be alone. He found a place that was secluded on the 3rd floor, it had a large round window to look at the castle below it. There were people outside for lunch having taken something to go and were sitting in tight groups of friends. 

He did not need friends, just enough people that liked him enough not to cause him harm and to help make sure that others did the same. He did not need anyone, only his mother. He took out the Hobbit and flipped to the note that was in the cover, tracing the letters of his Grandmother’s writing with his fingers. 

Was she a Witch or was she a Muggle? 

She no matter what had loved his mother, enough to give her blessing for her to go to school. Tom wondered what it was like to come from a big family like Edgar where his grandparents lived with them and they all worked and did things together. He only had his mother and Whimsy. Whimsy was sort of like a grandmother. She fed him and made him things like knit hats. He made her cards as thank yous. But he really wondered what his real Grandmother would have been like. 

Would she have liked him? 

He supposed that it did not matter because she was dead, like his grandfather, like his father, and his muggle parents wouldn’t remember Tom even if he were to show up at their door. He only had 2 people left and he did not like the threat that was hanging over them. 

He knew that Germany was on the Muggle front doing things. His mother always was listening to the radio intently making notes of things. She would turn it lower if she heard something particularly disturbing like a man that had a loud voice that sounded angry. She had mentioned that things were getting bad for a group of people called the Jews. But Tom did not know much about them and had not been too interested in the Muggle world as it had never done him any favors. He again didn’t hate all Muggles that would be stupid and insulting to those that if they were alive would be his family. But he should have been paying more attention. 

He took another deep breath he could hide here for another few hours. His last class was Defense and he was very close to the classroom from his current position. 

He turned to the first page, he had not been able to really read it and comprehend it with everything that had been happening to him. He tried to picture his mother about his age, reading this very book somewhere similar and for some reason that pulled a little at a place inside of his chest. 

\---------------------------------  
In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms, and an oozy smell, nor yet dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing to eat: it was a Hobbit-hole and that meant comfort….  
\------------------------------------------

When the bell rang he scurried off towards Defense. 

~/*\~ 

Tom kept to himself. The Hobbit was not a long book, but he did not have as much time to read it as he wanted. He had to pretend to pay attention in classes. All of them so far with the exception of Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense were rather boring and he wasn’t learning anything in them.

He had gained his house 30 points in the past few days but lost them 5 as apparently he had started flying far too well right away for Professor Mia Wolfberry’s tastes. It was not his fault that he knew everything there was about handling a broom. He had set out to prove it to as she had told him that he would break his neck if he tried to do anything without her say so.

Perhaps doing a successful loop-to-loop now that he had a real couple of minutes to think about it was not a good idea. He had acted yet again rashly but it had not lost them that many points and he had gained 30 of those said points so it was only right that he could lose some of them on his own accord. His house was a bit split by this as on one hand they knew that he was a great flyer and we're currently trying to convince him to sign up for quidditch next year and on the other Tom had lost them 5 points. 

The worst thing about school even over the horrible housemates he had was Potions. He could tune out Binns and Beery but Slughorn was something else entirely. He could not stand him. He might have been a decent teacher to everyone else, he was bubbly, likable really. But Tom found him to be foolish. He found the methods that were recommended subpar to what he was used to doing. 

And the potions that were in the book were little kids stuff. He told that to the person that was sitting next to him about a week later because he just could not stand it. He could not hear more instructions that were baseless. 

“Crush them with the blade. It's easier.” He muttered under his breath.

“Something wrong Tomas?” Professor Slughorn and his hearing. 

“It's better to crush them to get the fluids out then make cuts.” Tom repeated. 

“Is that what you do at home?” The man was looking at him as if he had said something groundbreaking. “I know from experience that this is a pretty simple way of doing it.” 

“Sir I have not done anything this simple since I was 5. I know. ” Tom stood up straighter. “These potions are those that I memorized and brewed thousands of times. Anyone with any cooking skills could do them.” 

“The work is too easy for you is what you are saying.” Slughorn now was studying him.

Yes that was exactly what he was saying!

Was it not clear enough? 

“I know that perhaps you have more experience with these sorts of things than others, but it could be beneficial for you to practice them.”

Tom shook his head and rubbed at his face. “I don’t want to practice them if I am going to be told how to do it wrong.” 

That made the man pause. “Excuse me?” 

Right the man had an ego, but he was doing it wrong surely someone like him knew that or at least knew it could be done easier and more efficiently.

Maybe he was testing him? 

Tom could help explain his reasoning then. 

“They would be even easier if you would turn the heat down in step 4. It wouldn't risk bubbling over, and you don't need to worry about the water line then. It would have even heat if the cauldrons were thinner, and in step 8 you say to take it off the heat and stir to help it thicken. But you could just add some maze that has been soaking in sulfur dioxide and that would thicken it. It also will not ruin anything and will help cover the soar throat to soothe it as the potion is swallowed.” 

There were a lot of blank looks at him and by the look in Slughorn’s face perhaps it had not been a test and he had misread the situation. He bit his lip. He might not like his head of house but he did not want to hate him either. And this probably was a disaster...

“I suppose that chopping them could be used to help with knife holds, and chopping technique. And measuring the water can help with learning what to do to keep things from over boiling.” He tried to salvage whatever he could.

“Tomas would you please step out of the classroom till the end of it. I would like to talk to you then.” The man patted him a tad on the back as if to be comforting and Tom took his things into the hall. 

~/*\~ 

He supposed that landing himself in Head Master Dippet’s office 2 weeks into his Hogwarts career was not a great way to start everything. He really didn’t know why there were so many people in the office. He didn’t think he had done anything too egregious. He steeled himself for having to make a defense. It was hardly his fault that he had pointed out curriculum flaws in Slughorn's teaching and he never would have done so in front of an audience if Slughorn had not placed him on the spot. His mother entered a few minutes later through the fireplace. 

Now he just was really uncomfortable because he had not sent her a real proper letter since he had arrived. There was not much to tell her though, he did not want to worry her with his less than favorable things to say about his roommates and he was not going to relay Mulciber’s warning until he had more concrete evidence that there was anything to really worry about. 

Mostly though he wanted her to know that he could take care of himself.

That he could be fine at school. 

“Mrs. Granger, it is very kind of you to come on such short notice.” Dippet greeted with a bow of his head. “We usually do not involve parents with disciplinary issues that we face at Hogwarts, but we figured that the reason behind such problems has little to do with Tomas' meaning to cause them. It has come to my attention through many of my staff members that Tomas has been to put it mildly not paying attention in most of his classes and for those that he does, he will make comments under his breath about the current curriculum.”

“I have been paying attention, I don’t mean to be rude, it's just I know most of it already.” Tom tried to explain himself. 

“I know.” His mother put her hand onto his shoulder, “there is no need to panic, you are not in trouble. I assume that I was called here to agree to moving Tomas up a year in some subjects or to give you permission to test him to be placed in appropriate classes?” ‘

Dippet bowed his head. “Tomas probably should move up in at least 3 of his courses or drop one of them altogether. I do not think that he is in need of flying courses.”

His mother actually smirked at that. “Tom has been on a broom almost as long as he has been running around our yard.”

Dippet shared a small smile with her. “Then it really comes to placing him in a higher level herbology class and potions class. It is my understanding that Tomas has been doing potions according to him since he was 5.” 

“That is correct, potions is a family business and I started young and so I started Tom when he was ready. He helps me run my store and brew some of the potions that we currently sell. I don’t think you will find him any lower than a 4th year level for most potions even if he has not done them before.” 

Tom was starting to relax under her hold even if she was not directly looking at him when she spoke and it felt weird to be in a room where people were talking about you, but not expecting you to join into the conversation.

He was not a child… 

He could have told them all this if they would just listen to him. 

By the end of it his mother had agreed to have him tested and Tom had agreed not to call people out about how they were teaching him something. If he had concerns he would address it after class and would refrain from mumbling all the answers under his breath. 

His mother would have walked herself towards the front gates if Tom did not insist that he go with her so that she could apparate to a different appointment.

“You aren’t mad at me right.” He blurted as they made their way through the courtyard there were not many people present.

“Of course not.” She shook her head. “I was reluctant to request that they bump you up because I wanted you to be with people your own age and go at your own pace. I expected something like this, but I really did not expect it to be so soon.” 

He nodded letting out a deep breath. “You don’t care that I am in Slytherin?” 

He didn’t want to sound insecure about it, but he still was feeling out of place. 

“No, why would I?” She looked down at him as they reached the far end of the castle where she could step outside the wards.

“I was placed into the house that values blood and the founder did not like people like Father.” 

She bent down a little to hug him. “I told you before you left that I would be proud wherever you landed yourself. You can bring change to them and new ideas perhaps that is why the hat placed you where it did.” 

He nodded again. “I…” He held on a bit to her back. 

“I miss you too Tom.” She smiled at him letting go. 

She always knew how he felt, he never had to say it. 

“Be good mostly.” She waved. “I will write soon.” 

He raised his hand too but did not really wave it. He didn’t want her to leave but knew that she had to. It was such an odd feeling to want to be held by her and spend time with her but also to be left alone so that he could grow and show her that he could handle himself. 

He frowned as she moved past the wards and then disappeared with a pop. 

“Bye.” He said to the empty space that she once was. 

~/*\~  
Hermione made her way to the small cafe that was located in a small wizarding town. Sara had asked to have lunch with her and she had been desperate for something to do that did not have to do with the Werewolf bill that she would be fighting in what 5 days? 

No, it was 4 she because it was Tuesday. She had made plans for Tuesday. She let out a very deep sigh. There was not much to write to Tom about last week, this week proved to be more of the same. He had not written anything besides the fact that he had been bored. Which she could understand. He was still adjusting there was plenty of room for him to make friends.

Friends was a touchy thing for Tom. He did not really get along with most people his age and those that were older than him, he showed respect for them but that was about all. He could converse with them more easily but she did not know if he actually was doing much more than getting information that he wanted out of them and being polite about it. 

The closest thing that Tom had once had was Abraxas. She knew that Tom had been upset when the Malfoy boy had stopped writing to him. She knew that he never would have admitted that it upset him, but she noticed that he would frustratedly search through the post in the morning in the off hope weeks after that birthday party. She knew that they were in the same house now so that could not have been easy, but certainly, there were kids older or that were his age from different houses that he could get along with. 

She did not want to worry about Tom at school; she had a lot to worry about, but it was probably within a mother to worry. 

The cafe was packed with Wizards and Witches all of them talking and laughing loudly. There was soft music playing from a large radio on the front counter. Sara was already there with her large purse saving one of the seats next to her, her slight frown might have been why a lot of men were keeping their distance. Well, that and the ring on her finger at least could be a slight deterrence. 

Sara was a very pretty woman with her brown hair that cupped her face and she wore a long beaded necklace that she was lacing her fingers through. She smiled immediately when she saw Hermione. 

“Hermione.” She waved excitedly as if making sure that she was easy to spot. No, Hermione, no matter where she was would be able to see her in a crowd even if her husband Larus was not next to her. She stood as Hermione got closer so that she could hug her. And of course, she hugged her friend back. 

“You are late.” She said, pulling away. 

“I had to stop by Hogwarts for a meeting about Tomas,” Hermione said apologetically sitting down at the seat across from her. 

“Like his mother already causing trouble, the moment that he is introduced to others.” Sara smiled over her teacup. “I heard that you are really pushing to stop this werewolf bill.”

“Of course I am.” Hermione shook her head, “they deserve every right that we have, they are people too.”

Sara nodded. “I am glad that we have people like you in this world, Hermione, that combat these sorts of things. Not many in power think of the people that they might hurt when they pass ridiculous laws out of fear. I mean look at the old Muggle-born legislation. It was an abomination. Larus bless his heart is coming to understand some of these things along with the idea of women's suffrage in the Muggle world we might have been let to vote in 28 but there is still a lot of work to do.” 

“I am glad that he is able to put more of the pureblood beliefs behind him.” Hermione was able to agree.

She would not have wanted to be a Muggleborn before some of the other legislation was passed in 1911 to protect their basic rights and to help integrate them into magical society. There was still hardly enough, and Hermione aimed to change that. But for now, she would settle with getting a werewolf to be seen as another living human being in the eye of the law and to stop them from the ridiculous plan of having them locked away. 

“I am as well, so spill what is Tommy up to at Hogwarts?” Sara’s grin spread and it was a bit contagious. 

“Well he did get by the letter home 5 pts deducted for doing a loop-to-loop on his broom when he was supposed to be just learning the basics of going up and down.” She drew the loop with her nicely painted red fingernails. 

Sara laughed softly at that. “Oh, I can only picture Wolfberry’s face if she is still teaching. Dreadful woman really never learned anything from her. I would have loved to see her stern face turn to one of shock as one of her students really did learn how to fly.”

“Surely she can not be all that bad?” Hermione offered.

“No, perhaps she was worse, I will never forget my first game of quidditch she was refereeing. It was quite the show. Bludgers going this way and that.” Sara traced the air with her hands as she vividly described the carnage. 

“Well, Tom to disappoint is not in much trouble other than that. They think that it is in his best interest to move him up in a few courses and asked me to sign off on testing him for higher levels.”

“I told you that your son is too smart.” Sara pointed at her. “Poor kid was probably ready to strangle someone with the potions thread. Do you think that he can even learn anything from Slughorn, he’s not a bad professor but I think he tends to try to give easier assignments for himself to grade.” 

Hermione ordered herself a cup of tea and sighed. “I don’t particularly think that he is all that gifted, but I am sure that there are things that are not medically related that he could teach Tom that could be hard for him to brew.”

“True.” Sara agreed.

Things shifted to work and a few other Topics one of them included dating. Sara giving all the details of who she thought might be a good match. 

“You know Hermione…” Sara started before hesitating to tap her finger that had her wedding band on her mug with a few clicks. “I know that I have asked before and you said it was genetics, but have you succeeded in making an anti-age potion, or made a glimmer that is not that detectable. I'm sure that will help with dating, but because we're friends and all I just thought that I would ask if you had any tips.” 

Hermione felt for her necklace, then gripped the locket lightly. “I haven't noticed, do I really not look 38?” 

“Godric no.” Sara shook her head hard. “You look 28 at most.”

Hermione felt her blood run cold. There had been possible side effects but she had been doing her hair differently and she felt that made her look older same with the lack of sleep. 

“I do dye my hair.” Hermione lied. “I also do use a faint glimmer to hide my crow's feet.”

“Still genetics than for the most part. But I do thank you for the advice, perhaps a different color hair would help me as well.”

“Oh Sara you are already beautiful,” Hermione said truthfully.

Her friend smiled at that and the topic went away towards the latest Witch fashion and Witches Weeklys newest articles. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione looked hard into the mirror she had taken a pepper up potion and tried to spell away the black marks under her eyes from her lack of sleep. She let her hair down and tried to see if what her friend had said was correct. She did not like the result. She then dug through her photos to compare and it was true she had not aged much, maybe just a year or two in the entire time that she had been living in the past. 

Something was indeed wrong… 

But she did not have time to investigate at this exact moment. The werewolf talk was just too close.

~/*\~ 

Egar found him sooner than later in his favorite hiding place. Tom had been spending a lot of time with the Hufflepuff. He still found him annoying, but he was persistent and well Tom never had someone that was determined to spend time with him even if he was in a foul mood. He would reluctantly admit that he liked the other’s company most of the time. It also scared others away which was an added bonus. 

“I am going to miss you in Herbology.” Edgar leaned against the wall. He was wearing a longer shirt today under his robe. Tom looked at it, but shrugged.

“I still have Charms with you.” Tom forced a smile. “And I can help you with any of your Herbology homework if you are that worried about failing.”

Edgar laughed at that. “I don’t think I will fail, it's just having less time with you will stink. And I like the way that you make comments about Beery’s teaching under your breath its about the only fun thing about the class for me.” 

“Glad to be your source of entertainment,” Tom muttered. “I am glad that is what founds our whole friendship.” 

Edgar sat next to him then. “No it's a lot more than that.” 

“Edgar I was being sarcastic.” Tom rolled his eyes.

“I can’t honestly tell with you sometimes.” Edgar laughed a little nervously, “How do you say things like that with such a straight face.”

Tom just blinked at him. 

“Nevermind.” Edgar took out his charms book. 

And Tom took out the Hobbit, he only had one chapter left to read, and he had been saving it for a time that he was away from his roommates and could actually concentrate on the book. 

“That is a really beat up copy of The Hobbit.” Edgar looked up from his charms book. 

“It was my mom’s.” Tom did not bother to look up, rereading the last sentence as he had been interrupted. 

“It seriously looks like it had been run over by a bulldozer. Your mother must not take care of her things.” Tom didn't know exactly what a bulldozer was but decided that he would not dwell on that muggle word, he could guess the context.

He frowned, sticking the small business card that he used back mark back into place. He should have known that he wouldn’t be able to get any reading done while Edgar was around. “It's an old book.”

“It only came out about a year ago.” Edgar looked really confused. “It's not that old. I haven’t read it but I saw it in some of the Liverpool bookstores.”

Tom didn’t press it but certainly, Edgar was wrong, that didn’t make any sense. 

Later when he was in his room he looked through some of his books, just because the Hobbit was missing the copyright information page. He did not know when it was published and who had done so. All of his books that were not the standard school textbook were missing that first page with that information or there were some sort of charm used in the area that messed up print. It was a very strange detail. Something that nagged at him. He had to be paranoid. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. It was possible that some were used, or strange acquisitions. His grandmother could have known the publisher and got the Hobbit early or maybe it was not the finalized draft and was rewritten or the newer version was released. 

It was just odd…

He contemplated writing his mother and asking but this was not really something that was a big deal right?

He had already bothered her already and she was working on fighting the Werewolf bill and this would probably be just another distraction. 

It was just something odd. 

It could wait.

He took a deep breath, he could ask her later. He had a charms essay due in the morning anyway.

~/*\~ 

Hermione rushed around her office gathering all her research notes, and the documents that she planned to use to help combat the bill. Oswin helped her load it into a briefcase. 

“It’s going to be alright Hermione.” Oswin smiled weakly. “Well make it to the meeting room long before the vote with plenty of time for your speech.”

“I know.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I just am nervous about this. If I mess it up, I don’t think I will be able to get it repealed till at the very least 1954.” 

Oswin looked confused and Hermione realized that to any sane person that bit of information would just come out as odd. It was because a fair creature's bill would be passed in 1954 that outlawed in all of Britain the hunting of intelligent magical creatures. That bill included people like Vampires that were still hunted by crazed Wizards that believed them to want to kidnap women and turn them into the undead. A practice that Mordred would have said was out of date. 

“Relax.” He offered to take the case for her as they made their way outside so that they could apparate to the ministry. 

Hermione really wished that she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So don't look up at that chapter number I bumped it there are way too many bullet points left. I have underestimated my ability to write a ton of words and am thinking that the flow will go better if chapters are not over 8,000 words anymore. I have so much planned for these few characters that have assembled. 
> 
> Please ignore the screams from the future chapters everything will be fine. It's all for character development I swear. 
> 
> ﾍ(￣▽￣*)ﾉ Hue Hue Hue


	17. Part XVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, welcome back again! ｡◕ ‿ ◕｡ Hope that you are all safe out there with the crazyness going on.

Hermione stood in front of a large group of people. She had heard the other treatments and now it was her turn. She had never really spoken to so many people at once. The closest that she could think of was when it was the end of the war trails, but then she had been just telling accounts of what had happened. Most of it was just confirming without saying much if she had seen one of the accused. The next was when she had been helping Harry run the defense club. She missed the days of the DA it had all seemed so exciting, up till the end of it. When they had fallen into Voldemort’s trap. 

She took a deep breath. She could do this and she had to do this if she wanted people like Remus never to suffer such injustices as not being allowed to receive a proper education. 

“It is my honor to introduce Medical Potion Master Hermione J. Granger. She has been renowned as the Witch that has developed a medication that helps to elevate the symptoms of werewolves. Leaving them according to her docile in their transformed state.” One of the Members of the Wizardmort introduced her. 

Hermione did not like the way that he had introduced her research and her medicine. It made it sound like she did not have the credentials nor the proof that such a thing really helped even if she had a long list of buyers and employees that would have argued that it really did indeed help.

She ignored it though. She had to play nice in the sandbox so she put on a nice and fake smile. 

“I am honored to be able to speak to you all today, as a recommended Healer and Potions Master in this time of need. And yes I say need right now sits before you a bill that will condemn very capable people and ban them from our workforce and place them into conditions that are not only unjust but also inhuman. The Ministry might want to hide its history of unfair laws, but I remember at time not so long ago that it was legal to put down people that were infected with lycanthropy. And even though that law has been abolished in most other countries it stays as a maybe here.” 

She leveled them all with her stern look taking her friendly face to one that was determined. She made sure to look at specific people in her audience. 

“People that are infected with an illness are meant to be treated, and yet those that seek to pass this bill would make that impossible. The bill suggests that those that suffer should be registered and locked up from the rest of the world for a week a month. These facilities are less than sufficient for basic human rights. Those around a Werewolf are only vulnerable to them when they are in a transformed state. This is a known fact even acknowledged by those that wish to pass this bill. There is no need for a person to be locked up for longer than a night.”

She looked at a few stunned faces and did her best not to smirk at them. She had not even made it halfway through and there were those that were glaring.

“And yet we are willing to waste funds on locking people up for longer than necessary. I have seen war in my lifetime. And I know that there is a war coming this way even if it is only on the Muggle front for now. Should we not be diverting funds to where it really matters instead of wasting them on pointless lock-ups? Or how about paying for a much cheaper alternative? One day places for safe transformations, and the ability to have access to potions as healthcare and security. Lycanthropy may not have a cure, but the symptoms can be lessened. My potion has the ability to help those that suffer from the full moon to keep their senses when they are forced to transform. They are no danger to those around them in that form, and my studies have been well documented.”

“Be that as it may you give your employees from what we heard 3 days around the moon off.” A person from the audience spoke up.

She chose her next words carefully, as she knew that many of her employees got a bit restless and irritable before a transformation. But if she said any of that they may try to make it sound like they were actually dangerous by that action. 

“I do that for their comfort, I know a few people like to rest before a transformation and after,” Hermione said calmly.

“What proof do we really have though?” Another person asked. 

“I am more than willing to show all of my research notes and theories they are all well documented and on file with the Ministry’s health offices. I even have some of them with me currently. But I have a feeling that those sorts of things will not convince you unless you see it for yourselves.”

“What are you proposing?” The main organizer for the meeting spoke up.

“Well I was not proposing anything but perhaps I should offer up a demonstration. Since the full moon is in 3 days time I am willing, if there are any werewolves that have been taking my potions, agree to it, to spend the night of full moon with them to prove that if there is proper medical care there is no danger.” 

There was a lot of murmuring after that and a few rebuttals but it was soon decided for whatever reason that her offer was a good idea. Perhaps the higher up purebloods thought that it would be a real sport to see or the media would go crazy for it. It was entertaining and proof one way or another. Oswin volunteered to help her and she was thankful that he was going along with her on the spot plan of perhaps near insanity. 

She had a feeling that Tom would have choice things to say about this.

~/*\~

Tom ate his breakfast at the end of the Slytherin table that allowed for him to sit closer to Edgar that would always turn himself from the Hufflepuff bench to tell him things. He looked over his advanced Herbology book and wrote with a Muggle pen in one of his notebooks. It was easier than trying to have a quill out at breakfast. 

He had done it enough that anyone that thought that they could tell him off of doing it, had failed miserably by this point. 

Avery was suddenly blocking his view with his horribly ugly face. Well actually he was decent looking as far as most females were concerned but that face was too perfect and as such very punchable. Tom swallowed his bit of egg and was about to tell the kid off but he slammed the Daily prophet in front of Tom. 

“Your mother is batshit insane.” Avery moved his hand enough for him to see the front page. His mother was on it and she was talking in front of the Ministry, press, and those that voted. He blinked at the title. 

_______________________

GRANGER ISSUES A CHALLENGE TO THE MINISTRY TO CANCEL HARMFUL WEREWOLF BILL

Hermione Granger, known for her many achievements in the field of medicine and potions has issued a unique challenge to the ministry in order to show proof of her cures effectiveness. She has decided to spend the night of the full moon in a room with a werewolf that has been taking her potion to prove that they are harmless during the time as long as they are taking her potions. (Details page 6-7)

______________________

Tom looked up from the paper and he could not help but slightly agree. Not that he would give Avery the satisfaction. 

This was exactly why he could not trust her to be alone! 

She did things like this! 

What the hell else had she been up to when he was gone...

“Our potion helps and she will be fine.” Tom played it off as calmly as he could. Inwardly he was screaming. 

“She must be pretty damn confident that it will work.” One of the other Slytherins noted. 

And even if he knew that there was probably a minimal amount of damage that could be done, Tom was still going to write her a very long and explosive letter on what they should classify as her keeping herself out of trouble. 

She never promised, but she had said she would try…

“It will work,” Tom said to end the conversation right then and there. 

It did not stop all the crazy comments that were directed at him the next couple of days, but Tom was good at this point in ignoring others if he really set his mind to it. He did nothing about the snide comments. Most of them that were hopeful that she would get maimed or worse were going to be disappointed in a couple of days when his mother provided them all wrong and came out of it all Scott free. 

Because if she didn’t….

Tom was going to kill her, himself and then the werewolf that did that to her. 

~/*\~ 

“I am very grateful to you Oswin.” Hermione sat in the small room that was awarded to make sure that Hermione spent the whole afternoon and night there with him and there were a few people that would check on her in the morning to make sure that she survived it all. 

“You don’t have to thank me.” Oswin sat across from her, his face heated just slightly. “You have helped me more than anyone I have ever known if anything I should be grateful to you.”

“I hope that is not the only reason that you decided to do this, I never wanted to push anyone into helping me with this crazy scheme.” Hermione sighed because she had never meant for it to go this way, but it seemed like they were not going to win the vote without her doing something drastic. “I know that the full moon is going to be hard on you and it is a vulnerable time for you.” 

“It is really fine, Mrs. Granger.” He held onto his pant legs not looking at her. 

“Call me Hermione.” She smiled at him. “We’re friends aren't we?” 

He nodded slightly smiling at that. “I am always happy to help out a friend.” 

It was not a fun experience watching someone change into a werewolf. Hermione felt bad for him as she heard his bones snapping and cracking to form a more quadruped animal. It gave her awful shakes as she remembered the time that she and Harry had been running in the dark forest. But she knew that this time she did not have to run for her life. The wolf did not take over and Oswin looked at her with knowing yellow eyes and Hermione turned on the radio so that they could wait the rest of the night out in peace. 

~/*\~

As the Moonlight died Oswin reverted back to his normal self and Hermione helped him with his clothing as he was very tired from the whole ordeal. It was still painful regardless of her potion turning into the wolf form and then returning. She wished more than anything that she knew how to solve that. It was one of the things that she was researching, but it at the moment did not seem possible. 

The press were on them the second that they stepped out of the room after a healing staff looked over both of them and the room. 

“I would say that it was a success.” Oswin smiled grimly, he was still in a bit of pain and Hermione was holding him upright. 

“Smile for the cameras.” She laughed uneasily. She never liked the papers. 

But the evidence was there, and the public was now for the most part backing her and the Minserty had to dismiss the proposed protection bill. 

Hermione celebrated with her staff, Sara, and a few of the other people that had helped to make the victory possible. Oswin smiled brightly next to her as they toasted and she felt herself smiling too. Perhaps it was Sara elbowing her but Hermione invited Oswin over for Tea next Tuesday on her day off. She did not have many friends and spending time with Oswin outside of work sounded sort of nice. 

~/*\~ 

“She did it.” Edgar looked over Tom’s shoulder so that he could see the morning post. They were in the unusual hiding place on the 3rd floor. The morning sun was streaming through the window. 

Tom nodded slowly. 

“It's really amazing. They stopped that bill. I heard that it made a lot of Purebloods upset.” Tom looked again at the way that Edgar was wearing the thicker ware of the uniforms. Tom had taken off his robe as the September air was not that cold and he felt like he was dying in the overly warm castle. Now that he thought about it, Edgar was wearing the thicker uniform pieces and not taking advantage of the times that they did not have to worry about wearing the complete set. 

“I am sure that it upset them,” Tom said plainly watching Edgar's face and body language. “I am sure that they have not been pleased with the last few bills that have made it through.”

“They really don’t like the Muggleborn inclusion act.” Edgar rubbed at his arm and Tom finally had enough and gripped at his sleeve and pulled it upward to reveal bruises.

He blinked at them, they did not seem to be done by spell damage. 

Edgar looked at him hard before taking his arm back and pulling down his sleeve. 

“Who did that to you?” Tom demanded because no one got to hurt Edgar. He was not sure where the anger came from but he could feel his magic springing to life in his veins. Maybe he was upset because he considered Edgar to be his because it was Edgar that chose to be close to Tom. Even if Tom sometimes was not the kindest in turn to him. But Tom always tried to take good care of things that belonged to him. 

“Relax Tom.” Edgar looked at him concerned and Tom did his best to breathe and bring back his magic. But it was sizzling and it was hard. “It's not that big of a deal, some of the Slytherins have been bumping into me after classes.” 

“Bumping into you?” Tom hissed. 

Oh, he knew about the bumping into students to knock their books out of their hands. Tom had put a stop to those that thought they could do that to him. He had made sure that the one that kept tripping him, had a trip down the stairs. No one could prove that he had been the one to untie Clarence’s shoes and were sure that it was a loose board that the shoe had been caught on that had caused the fall. But Clarence knew it was Tom. Tom had made sure to smile as he watched from the bottom of the stairs and then commented that this time it was harmless but he really should be more careful, before helping him to his feet. 

If it was Clarence ...

“Tom really it's harmless bullying.” Edgar shook his head as if Tom was missing something. He was not that was not right at all. It was within his right to get upset about it. Harmless and bullying should not be used in the same sentence.

“It's not harmless if you have bruises!” Tom fiercely declared. 

How could Edgar let that happen?

Maybe he worried that it would get worse if he did anything.

Muggleborns were not well-liked, even outside of Slytherin. 

But certainly, a teacher could do something… 

Tom wouldn’t tell because he knew that was a big deal in Slytherin you did not tattle you got even but certainly, it would be okay for Hufflepuff to tell someone. 

Edgar smiled though at him and put his hand on his shoulder. He hated that he was smaller because he had to look a little up at Edgar. “I can handle things myself Tom and if it gets any worse I will do something about it.” 

Why did no one ever let him help them when they were in trouble?

How was he supposed to protect anyone that he cared for when they always did this? 

Edgar had no right to try to stop him from helping...

“Okay.” His friend smiled brighter as if nothing in the world was wrong. 

Tom’s throat felt dry as he lied through his teeth that he was okay with this. “Okay.” 

“You are a good friend.”

Maybe that was the word that he had been missing to describe the weird attachment that had been happening between them. Edgar and him were friends. But then He didn’t think that he was being a good friend by not finding a way to keep him safe.

He would have to keep a better watch out for Egar even if he did not want him involved. Tom wouldn’t just stand aside. 

~/*\~ 

Now that the werewolf bill was tackled Hermione took time off to see if there was anything to help with the main issue that she was facing, not being able to age properly. She pulled out her books that she had hidden in the off chance that Tom did figure out how to get past her wards. 

When she had created the Rune that she had carved into her leg, she had based it off of a Rune that was created for objects. She knew that she was not an object but the principals had been the same. She had wanted to be able to exist even outside of her original timeline. Before there were a lot of regulations about time travel, people had gone back into the past to steal or to save historical artifacts that would otherwise be destroyed. The symbol had been able to anchor the object to the future time. 

It was essentially placing an object in its current state into the future and locking it there. It was in a way preserving it so that regardless of what happened in the past that object would still exist and exist where it was supposed to be. She had applied this to herself and it was preserving her. Preserving her at the forever state of 26. The time dust that was sprinkled into the wound and sealed with a curse that burned it in place could have also made it into her bloodstream. She did not exactly know what that could mean for her. 

She didn’t even know if there was a real way to fix these things. Not without damaging the seal and that would not only be painful but could have lingering effects. Bad things happened to people that meddled too much in time. And she had been meddling with it for 11 years now. 

She could not just disappear by meddling with the seal… 

And she knew very well that she could not leave her Tom. 

But she could not just go unaged. She could help to make herself look a little older with slight glimmer charms, makeup, and a little bit of hair dye. She could give herself a few gray streaks and a slight crow's feet. There was one name problem. Tom could see glimmers, he couldn’t look past them, but he knew when they were there. Much the way that he could feel wards. This was really not going to be easy and she could already see it going wrong.

~/*\~

Tom felt like he would annoy Edgar by spending more time with him, in order to catch those that were responsible in the act. But Edgar did not seem to mind at all. It was strange but now that there was a word for it. 

Friend. 

He had never had one of those before and that was the pure reason that he was going to make sure that whoever thought that they could mess with Edgar learned that they would also be messing with Tomas R. Granger and it helped that people thought that his mother was slightly crazy. It was a usable edge because they also thought that Tom might also be a bit mad. 

It had not stopped a person in particular form acting. Clarence probably thought that he was safe doing it when Tom was not around, but he did catch him in the act. And when their eyes met Tom made sure that the older boy knew that retribution would happen, before he went and helped Edgar up and helped him collect his things. 

“You really sound tell someone.” Tom handed Edgar the last of his stray things, the quills feathers were a bit squashed. 

“I told you that it's okay,” Edgar said be it slightly coldly. “I know that you want to help, but you don’t understand what it's like being Muggle-born. If I do anything it will get worse. It's better they think that they have achieved something by doing slight inconveniences than think that they need to put me into place by doing worse.” 

Tom gripped his bag's strap tightly. It wasn’t right. There had to be something that he could do. “But…” 

For the first time in a long time, he could not think of what to say. He knew that it could get worse. He for sure knew that. He had heard what some of the older kids did to those that did not fall in line. Tom was relatively safe from it because he had pushed back and because he was a half-blood that was proving to be one of the smartest people that the school had to offer. It also might have helped that Tom played very nice with adults and had most of the staff thinking he was a saint. Be it a smart and slightly blunt saint but a saint nonetheless. Smart individuals according to Slughorn were often like that and Tom played very well into the stereotype. 

But Edgar was right; he did not know what it was like to be under the title Muggle-born. 

Edgar must have realized that it was bothering him, the taller boy was getting good at reading him and Tom was not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“It's really not something that you can help with Tom…” Edgar took in a deep breath. “Just keep being my friend okay. You’re all I got in this place.” 

Tom blinked. 

“The others in Hufflepuff are great kind people for the most part, but they are not very big fans of your house. Gryffindors less so. They think that you're odd and I shouldn’t hang out with you. But I told them that you were worth ten of them, so they are not really talking to me at the moment. They will come around I am sure.” 

Edgar thinking on it, was the only person that he could let his guard down for, well as much as Tom felt safe to. 

“I’ll always be your friend.” Tom forced a smile.

‘Or until you get tired of me…’ was the stray thought that entered his head. 

He did not want to think about it, but that is what happened. Walburga and Abraxas were not great friends. Tom didn’t want to count them as such, but he had thought that they had at least liked him. And they had bailed on him. Edgar could do the same, to make more friends with those in his own house. But while they were friends Tom could try to help him and if it made it worse. Tom would make sure that the problems were directed his own way. The hat had told him that Slytherins cared for their friends' best interests, not necessarily the relationship. So Tom would do just that. 

He already had an idea on how to do it.

~/*\~

It was not a hard plan to enact. Tom had 2 classes with Clarence. Herbology and Potions he spent all of potions staring at the older boy. He did not take notes, and he did not elevate his gaze. When the other noticed his staring he did not at first think much of it. But then he just kept turning back. Tom kept it up for 3 days worth of their shared classes even going as far to smile and fold his hands in front of him. 

Clarence needless to say was jumpy and scared out of his mind that Tom had done something to him or would do something. He watched the unease and panic with a slight bit of pride. The best part was he had done nothing, but it was the anticipation that he had done something that was keeping the other far away from Tom and Edgar. 

The best part was when Edgar asked him if he had done anything Tom could with perfect honesty say nothing. 

~/*\~

Things were good for the next few months. Tom settled into his classes and most of the older students were pretty decent to him. Mostly because he was smart and they thought that he could help them with their studies. Tom did make himself study guides so he just duplicated a few of his practice sheets for them to use as well. It worked wonders for his popularity. 

Not that he ever gave them much of his time he preferred to spend it in the library reading or with Edgar in their study spot. Hallows Eve was approaching and that led to a little bit of excitement at the school and on the grounds as the place was decorated. 

He could hear his mother going on about how the classic Halloween colors could trace their origins back to the Celtic festival Samhain. Black represents the “death” of summer while orange is emblematic of the autumn harvest season. There were many ways in which to celebrate the holiday. They usually placed food offerings for spirits and such outside of their home and carving of both turnips and pumpkins. They would always put up a bonfire as that was a good way besides candles to help lost souls seek the afterlife. Halloween for other more modern families was a bit different, involving dressing up and trying to have neighbors guess who they were and lots of traits being passed out. 

Tom and Edgar made plans to meet outside of the castle after the feast to tell ghost stories and do some of the older traditions. Which may or may not have involved playing perhaps a couple of pranks if they did not eat themselves sick with all the candy that Hogwarts supposedly served. 

Tom had finally felt comfortable enough carrying Shani around in his pocket. She made small comments here and there and helped to solidify that he either was a dark wizard that was best left alone or that he was indeed someone of interest as half-blood or not there was something to be said for the gift. 

If he didn’t have so much mundane homework. Tom would say that he was really starting to like Hogwarts.

~/*\~

Hermione looked over her teacup at Oswin, since getting a job with her had started to invest in better clothing. He cleaned up rather nicely. His black hair had been trimmed and he no longer supported an unshaved face. He had groomed the hair to be a thin beard that covered the bottom of his face and a thin mustache that connected with it. His face now had a visible thin scratch under his eye and his hand is where there was a scar that had large bite marks. 

It spoke volumes that he did not care to hide it anymore. He was still a rather meek man as he was still finding his confidence but they were able to have more lunches out as he was not as worried about being in public. His soft blue eyes were focused on the Daily Profit. It was quiet and nice. 

She smiled as he looked up at her and he smiled back, folding the paper over. 

“Anything interesting?” She asked as she had not read the paper for the day. She had been so happy that Tom had written her about his Halloween activities and his friend Edgar. She was so proud of him.

“Just the usual drivel.” Oswin closed the paper and took a drink from his coffee. “Even with the newer legislation the news still insists on labeling people even in articles by their blood status first and then their name.” 

Hermione sighed. “I have been working with Sara and a few others on proposing a better Muggleborn inclusion act that would do a better job educating them before they are 11 so they have better transitions into our world. But that is a while away.” 

“You really have a very kind soul Hermione but do you not think that you are perhaps too busy?”

Hermione smiled slightly. “You sound like Whimsy, I just like to be busy. If I am busy then I don’t miss Tom as much.” 

“How is he doing, by the way, I saw that you were hunched over a letter earlier. I always can tell when it's been about a week since a letter by the way that you perch yourself by the window.” 

She laughed softly. “Noticed that have you?” 

“Of course, we're friends. I notice a lot about you, like you're also doing your hair differently.” 

“That is me just being lazy. I haven’t dyed it in a bit and you can see the gray creeping in.” Hermione brushed her hair back, glad that the glimmers were helping. 

“It looks fine, but perhaps you will go completely gray if you spend too much more time worrying about everything.” Oswin said with a chuckle. “Try to live a little outside of work.”

He had a gruff laugh almost like a small growl. It suited him as he was getting into shape and was a bigger man than when she had first met him. 

“Maybe it's really time that I start living then.” Hermione said, finishing her tea. Oswin was really close to her, closer than she had let most people. He was kind, thoughtful really. And she did not think that she loved him but there was a growing fondness for him. “How do you suggest that I live.” 

“Well for starters getting some fresh air.” He put down a few sickles onto the table and held out his hand to her. 

Yes, he was becoming quite bold.

She took his hand. 

~/*\~

Tom made his way out of Defense and noticed a small form curled up hiding in one of the alcoves. It was a girl from what he could tell. Her brown-black hair was a mess around her shoulders only one was up and the other was down and tangled. She looked up at him as he stopped by her hiding place. It was a rather good one. Her large brown eyes looked at him and her glasses were cracked in half the metal frame had snapped in the middle of the nose piece; he could see that she was holding the broken pieces. 

He knew her. It was Myrtle. He had not seen much of her except in Defense and sometimes outside of class in the library. 

He really hated it when people cried. It always made him feel weird and mostly angry. 

“You shouldn’t cry.” He told her harshly as he bent down. “It lets them know that they got to you.” 

Myrtle sniffled rather pathetically. “He broke my glasses. I can’t see without them so I just sat here.” 

Tom motioned for her to open her hands. He took out his wand and performed the charm that he had learned maybe an hour ago. “Oculus Reparo.” 

The glasses fixed themselves. He was rather pleased to see that he had been able to get it correct even after just really learning it. He grinned more to himself than her but she took that smile to mean kindness. 

“Thank you.” She smiled a little though she still had a lot of tears in her eyes that made her look a bit ugly if he was to be completely honest. Not that it really mattered. 

“Tell someone.” He instructed. “And don’t cry.” 

She laughed a little as he got up to leave. “Your kind Tomas.” 

He shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 

Because she wouldn’t be saying that if she knew all the nasty little pranks that he used to get even with his housemates. Tom was not nice and he knew that. He was only nice to get things from people. 

But then he had no reason to fix her glasses…

Nope, he was not nice. He took his leave as quickly as possible after that.

~/*\~

Myrtle joined him the next day at his table for Defense. He usually sat alone, but she sat next to him rather boldly. 

“Why are you sitting with me?” He narrowed his eyes, what was she playing at? 

“You helped me the other day.” She straightened her uniform as she placed her things down on the table. She looked pretty determined. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“You need someone to keep up with you in this class, we need partners, and you don’t want to have to do all the work. I know the feeling.” She said it like a true Ravenclaw matter of factually. 

“And you think that you can keep up with me?” He was now a bit amused by her, not perhaps enough that he wanted her to bother him. 

“I know I can.” She held her head up high. 

“And what do you get out of it?” Tom pressed her.

“Well for one a partner that can do his share and second…” She trailed off not as confident as she was seconds before. “Second perhaps a friend, or at the very least someone that is scary enough to keep Olive Hornby and Clarence away from me.” 

Tom actually started to laugh at that. “People find me scary, seriously?” 

Myrtle nodded a little sheepishly. “I don’t think that you are though, you held an umbrella for me so that I would not get soaked and Edgar speaks highly of you.” 

“Course Edgar speaks highly of me, I’m his best friend.” Tom smiled at that weird feeling that was in his chest. “What does he say about me?” 

“That everything is great about you but your humility.” Myrtle smiled, largely showing off her slightly crooked teeth. 

Tom for some reason did not mind them. “You better keep up.” He nodded at her. “I won’t have any partner of mine hold me back.” 

~/*\~

Their corner on the 3rd floor was a little cramped with Myrtle sitting with them but Tom found that he did not mind her most of the time. She kept Edgar busy when Tom wanted to be alone and they all could converse about things together as it came to light that Myrtle too was a Muggleborn. She really liked books and her talking about them with such investigation reminded Tom that he still had not figured out the mystery behind the Hobbit book that was tucked away safely in his trunk. It should not matter, but it was like a loose thread to his shirt, he wanted to pull on it to see where it would go. It was hard to forget about it now that it was put back into the front of his mind. Maybe he could get confirmation about dates and such from Myrtle without it being weird. 

Or he could ask his mother. She would be the best one to be able to explain it...

But every time he thought to include it in a letter, he paused because what if this led him to a conclusion that he would not be able to unlearn or she would not tell him because she had things that she kept from even him. 

Again the thread was dangling there right in front of him and he took notes of the books that he had in his collection and went to the Hogwarts Library with the slip of paper that held on it all the Wizard published books so he could look amongst the tombs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so a new Golden trio is born or perhaps they are not that shiny... Iron and rusty maybe forged from not fitting in and making their own place. 
> 
> And for the love of Godric Tom, you stop pulling on that thread before you regret it. (☉-☉)


	18. Part XVIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, the sound of plot development, friendship, and angst. My favorite! 
> 
> (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ

Tom did not really like Quidditch but it seemed that everyone that he was friends with liked the sport. That being the 2 people that he spent his time with, Myrtle and Edgar. They liked it though for 2 very different reasons. Myrtle liked it because she got to scope out all the good looking boys and Edgar liked it because he wanted to one day play it. It was why he found himself out there on the very cold late fall day. He had been dragged there. Ravenclaw was playing Hufflepuff and they sat themselves in one of the stands that were empty and not decorated by house. 

Ravenclaw was winning the match, not that Tom really cared about that. He actually had no interest in actually watching. He could hear it just fine with Gray announcing like he was. Tom busied himself with reading a charms book. He had need of things that could provide him with better wards and heating spells as now Shani had to stay in the room because his pocket got too cold. 

“Think about it Tom, a world-class Quidditch player that's Muggle-born. People would have to respect the fact that we have skills and I am pretty good on my broom.” Edgar was not even bothering to hide his excitement watching his housemates zoom around on their brooms. 

He reminded Tom of how Whimsy was on Yule. It really seemed that Edgar had found what he wanted to do for extracurricular activities. Tom wouldn’t be caught dead flying between obstacles like that. Flying was fine, wanting to get in the way of a bulger was another. 

“Tom could help you train for next year's tryouts,” Myrtle said enthusiastically. “Wolfberry is useless at teaching flying but tells stories of how fast Tom learned.” 

“I taught myself as if that crackpot has anything to claim other than her insanity.” Tom looked up from his book. 

Wolfberry was such a terrible excuse for a teacher. The match was chaos down on the field. How could Edger want to join that fray?

“While she might be a few owls short of her owlery, that is no way to talk about a teacher.” Myrtle snorted. 

“I’m sorry am I supposed to say worse.” Tom raised an eyebrow.

Edger now was cracking a smile. “If only the teachers could hear Saint Tomas Granger now.” 

“They would say, my Tomas reading even on a Sunday at a Quidditch match advanced charms, how about you take a bit of a break to have fun,” Tom said in a near-perfect imitation of Slughorn. 

No one could understand that was really where Tom found his enjoyment in books. They were escapes from his shitty roommates, the blood politics, and whatever else. Magic was something that even if the people around him were tainted by beliefs it wasn’t. Magic is beautiful and he enjoyed it in all of its forms. From dark to light it did not matter. Though he would admit the dark had always fascinated him.

“But seriously Tom, you are probably one of the best flyers. If anyone can help Edgar get an edge it's you. The house teams hold tryouts and they can try to bully him off the pitch but they have to let him try out, and if he is really good then they will have no choice but to include him.” Myrtle changed the topic back to where it originally was headed. “Also Edgar can tell me which of the Hufflepuffs look the best outside of uniform.” 

“Uhhh…. No.” Edgar shook his head. “If I make the team I am not letting you use me to get changing memories to put in a pensive.” 

“I still think its a good idea.” Myrtle folded her arms. 

Tom could not tell if she was joking… He rubbed at his face. “Did you really take the lecture we had about magical objects last week and think of that as the best way to apply something as wonderful as a pensive.” 

Tom thought that a pensive would be a great tool for him in the future to look back at memories of how to make potion types or to relive an experiment that he might not have gotten all the details down the first time. But Myrtle was a bit boy crazy as Edgar called it and Tom supposed that only someone like her would think to use it in that particular manner.

One had to worry about her sometimes.

Myrtle shrugged. “I mean its one application I would like to use it for, but in all seriousness, I was only joking about using you for that Edgar.” She hugged his arm slightly. “I want you to make the team so that you can for sure prove that we have skills. If I have to hear another person say we're not as good at magic, maybe I will use some of those jinxes that Tom uses.”

“It's better than you don’t, I’m better at covering my tracks than you are,” Tom noted. “And if you really want help learning to fly we can try over the summer. My mother probably would allow for you to visit.” 

“Your mother is one of the most amazing Witches there has been. I really would love to meet her.” Myrtle hugged herself with excitement. “I heard that she is going to be proposing another inclusion act that is to help Muggle-borns enter the Wizarding World easier. Not to mention her breaking strides in Witch independence from Men. She runs her own shop, you know how many women can say that!” 

“If you are done fangirling over my mother.” Tom said distastefully, “I will allow for you to meet her as well on the condition that you never do that in front of her or for that matter me again.” 

Myrtle fake putted before she laughed. “Okay fine.” 

“What are you planning for Winter break,” Edgar asked not failing to miss that Tom had postponed the training till the summer.

“My mother and I always celebrate Yule together and then my birthday.” 

“When’s your birthday,” Myrtle demanded. 

“Yeah,” Edgar smirked. “You're getting older and we need to know.” 

“December 31st.” Tom sighed knowing that they would pester him nonstop if he did not give it to them. 

“You're going to be 12 years, old wise one. What great gifts do you want in exchange for your knowledge?” Myrtle asked. 

“How about nothing. I don’t really want gifts.” Tom shut his book and placed it into his bag.

“Is that a Slytherin thing? We just give gifts to be nice. You know it is a thing that's given for free and nothing is expected back. Right?” Edgar said. 

“I know it just makes me feel weird.” Tom sighed not really wanting to get into it. He did not like the idea of having things to look at when the inevitable happened. He had things that were in his room still from Abraxas and it bothered him to look at them. That and it always made him feel like he owed people things if they got him something. Tom was not very good at the whole gifting thing. 

“Fine. I’m still getting you a Christmas gift though, and you can not deny that one.” Myrtle smiled up at him. “Everyone should get a gift on Christmas.” 

Tom felt like it was best to just accept it because sometimes even he did not have the will to fight Myrtle. Besides the girl was a bit sensitive and he really didn’t want her to start crying over not being able to get him anything. Myrtle had a weak heart. She could be more herself around them and outspoken but she was a lot more nervous around others and their words got to her more than she wanted to admit. She aimed to please him and Edgar because maybe she, like Tom feared that they would grow tired of him. 

But Tom didn't think he would get tired of her. Myrtle was actually really bright and an okay dueling partner for defense surprising most people including him. He had thought her to be just book smart at first. But he was ohhh so terribly wrong. If Myrtle put her crazy mind to something she usually did quite well and was creative. The pensive idea while slightly joking in nature was something that she really could use it for. 

She was also not like most girls she did not seem to want to be a doll. Her crazy hair and easy ability to get frustrated by all the slights in the world reminded him of a more extreme caricature of his mother. He also liked that he never had to guess what Myrtle was feeling. It made things a lot easier as Tom sometimes struggled to understand how people felt about things. 

Edgar was different. He was easy to read but a very in the box thinker. He was kind that was for sure. Always sneaking into the kitchens that were near his dorm room and bringing him and Myrtle snacks when they cooped themselves in the Library too long and was always the one that insisted that they take some sort of break, whether that be to get outside the castle or just to go eat properly. Tom admittedly sometimes forgot to do that if the other did not bring him snacks he might just starve a bit. Of the 3 of them, Tom would say that Edgar was the most excitable out of all of them, and perhaps the calmest when it came to dealing with insults and slights.

Tom could fake calm but Edgar radiated it. 

His mother would probably like them. Tom liked them enough to consider letting them into his house. Maybe not for long extended periods of time but for a few hours he could handle them. Whimsy though might just die by Myrtle's lack of manners.

~/*\~

Winter was again upon them. Hermione never liked snow. At one point in time, she had considered moving away from it all and towards a warmer climate. There were places that she could have migrated towards that would have been out of the danger area of the second world war and would have been warm. 

It would thou have been very hard to set up in a place that she did not know, where her coins might not have carried as much weight. England might have been bloody cold in the winter but Hermione was at least familiar with it. And knew that even if it was a very well developed nation for wizards there were still things that needed to be fixed. 

Who was she not to try and help where she could?

It was helping that had landed her a lot of her friends that she now currently had. She looked over at Oswin as he lifted some of the new potions into boxes that he would eventually apparate with. The less magic around those the better. It was why she had a lifting and delivery crew. 

Lavorx marked the box for the shipments and wrote it in the logbook. And then frowned as Blef was too close to him. 

“Why are yah not watching the counter?” He growled.

Bleft raised a thin eyebrow. “I’m on my 15.”

“Why are yah back here then?” Lavorx grunted his acceptance of the other being on break.

“Well Milly is going on her break soon, so?” 

“Yah going to bother her while she works, are yah?” Lavorx shook his head, his large nose pointed which way and that with the action. “Ruins production when Goblins like yah harass the elves.” 

“I’m not harassing Milly. She likes my company.” Bleft puffed himself up. “We are dating.”

“A Goblin dating an elf, now I have seen everythin.” Lavorx turned to Hermione. “What are thee rules about dating in the workplace. And before yah say it this has nothin to do with him being in love or thinkin he is with an elf.” 

“I never really thought much about implementing any policies,” Hermione noted the way that Oswin was now looking over at her. “Do you really think that it would be that detrimental. I like to think that we can work out our problems here if such relationships were to go south.”

Lavorx muttered to that. “Yah is probably right. Long as no one in management takes advantage of it.” 

“Here that Milly nothing is standing between true love.” Bleft smiled at the elf as she clocked out for her lunch. 

The elf to her credit did not blush or seem all that fazed by him. “Bleft will you be walkin Milly up the street to pick up a snack?” 

“I would but I have to be at the counter in 8 minutes so maybe just to the front.” 

“Or Bleft I can watch the counter for you, and you could take your lunch early with Milly.” Hermione smiled at him. 

“That would be most kind.” The Goblin nodded his head and gave a quite creepy smile as he showed most of his pointed teeth. Hermione was pretty used to the smiles of her employees and knew that he was really showing his pleasure and graduated, and was not planning anything harmful. She could not confirm that he would not be getting into any sort of trouble with Milly because those two together were quite capable of it. 

“Off you go then.” She waved them off. 

“Yah are too kind Miss.” Lavorx shook his head. “He’ll be askin for more favors like that.”

“Lavorx who are we to stand in the way of true love,” Hermione smirked watching the older Goblin scrunch up his nose the way he did when he was slightly unpleased with her sense of humor. Oswin, who had finished loading, waited to come up to her until Lavorx had made his way back to his desk to continue managing the accounts. 

“I was wondering Hermione if you would like to possibly come over sometime for dinner. I mean it would be in the small barn that you let me stay at but I think I am a pretty good cook.” Oswin put his hand to his head. “I suppose that the elves and a few of the others would be there too though. Maybe instead we could go out…”

“Oswin I wouldn’t mind either.” Hermione smiled kindly trying to help him out. “But if you want to cook together you could come my way instead.” 

“I wouldn’t want to impose on you.” He backtracked. 

“It's not imposing if I am inviting you.” She shook her head. “Just come by on Saturday, use the backdoor.” 

“Hermione.” Mox entered the hall, his big ears flopping. “Are you taking over the front desk?” 

“I’m on my way up.” She called back to him, before turning. “See you Saturday as you have Friday off.” 

He blinked once as if stunned by her boldness but then smiled greatly. “I’ll be there by 6.” 

“Good.” She headed towards the front desk. “Have a good day off.” 

~/*\~

Tom pulled out the list from his bag so far all of the books that he had checked out to compare to the books that he already owned were fine. He did not know why he thought that they wouldn’t be. But even as he did check them and they looked like the same books just with a bit more damage. 

He thought that he might have been onto something, but it seemed like this was just another dead end. All the books came out in an acceptable time for the amount of damage that they had received. Some were at the very least last 30 to 20 years old. His mother shopped old and used bookstores as well so there were those that could have made the problems in the spine or the book's corners and it wasn’t necessarily his mother. 

Still… 

The newer books that he had might not be on the Hogwarts shelves but they were stocked at a different library and could be borrowed and mailed to him. So he knew that they existed. It was just one book that was the odd one in the bunch. Well, that and that his mother had taken a painstaking amount of time to remove the publishing dates and the other information about the book in the front cover or just removed the page entirely.

So even as he had pulled on the string he was still nowhere near to knowing why.

It was frustrating and maybe there was no real reason for it. Other than it was annoying to have the page there. Perhaps he was looking too deeply into this. 

There were less than 3 weeks till the holiday break and Tom really had other things that he should and could be doing. Midterms were not going to be horrible but he really should study if he wanted to keep being at the top of the class. It might have looked easy to others, but he did need to study. 

He was interrupted from his musings as Edger poked him. “You forgot to come to lunch.” 

He sighed. “I’m not hungry.” 

“Fine by me I’ll just eat the sandwich I brought you.” Edger teased.

“What kind is it?” Tom now was only slightly interested. If he brought him food and all he should probably eat it right? 

“Oh, now you want it.”

Tom rolled his eyes and held out his hand and Edgar placed a ham sandwich there and it was still partially wrapped in a napkin . It wasn’t his favorite but it would do. He took a small bite out of it. It was pretty good and he was glad the other had thought of him.

“What, No thank you?” Edgar folded his arms. 

That was a word Tom wasn’t in the best practice of saying but he swallowed before nodding. “Thanks.” 

“There not so hard. I'll help you become even more of a saint.” Edgar slid into the open seat pulling out his Herbology book. 

Tom sighed. He didn’t find it so hard to thank others when he was pretending to be someone else. He kept that mask up around teachers and adults. He didn’t really like to have it up around Edgar and he was pretty sure that Egar still liked him despite his flaws. Not that Tom had many of that he was sure.

In other news, Edgar smiled I heard that your house lost 50 points for using slurs to address muggle borns a few of them even got detention. 

Tom raised an eyebrow “Who?”

“Abraxas, Avery, and a few others.” Edgar shrugged, “you know Myrtle will probably know more about it.”

It was true she knew everything and Tom sometimes really hated that she did. But he wouldn’t lie that it was helpful when he needed new ways to Blackmail his housemates or drag them over the coals for something that he had ‘overheard’. 

“I am sure they will be rather pleasant later.” Tom offered, though he did like the idea of Abraxas getting into trouble, perhaps it was petty but he took some joy in watching the other experience karma for his rather crappy beliefs. 

“Yah thought that you would want a heads up on that. I wish I could say that they learned their lesson, but I am sure that they will just try to be quieter and cautious about who hears them.” Edgar tapped his Herbology book. “The good news is the holidays are coming and we won’t have to see them for a few weeks.” 

“They aren’t giving you any trouble are they.” Tom gave him a knowing glance. 

“Define trouble.” Edgar smiled slightly. 

Tom glared at them.

“Okay, just a little. I think they are trying to discourage me from trying out next fall, for Quaddich but I think that is just because they feel threatened you know. I can fly circles around them, I am sure and even a few of my housemates are encouraging me.” 

Tom nodded. “So they haven’t been pushing you into any walls?”

“No, just trying to make me mess up in Herbology. But you will be happy to know that Mulciber while trying to mess with my plant managed to kill his.”

“Mulciber?” Tom had if he was to put a label on it been on friendlier terms with him then any of his other roommates. 

Most people were learning that Tom’s small group was off-limits as Tom had been making small accidents happen to them. Confusing Potion ingredients could cause things like melted cauldrons and nothing was better than ink that disappeared after a few days and all the notes they needed to write a paper disappeared. Shani was also useful at taking things from other people’s rooms for him to plant in other places to turn his housemates on each other. It seemed that he might need to push back again, especially if someone like Mulciber thought that he could get away with it.

“You have that dark look on your face again.” Edgar poked his cheek and Tom hit his hand away. “You really need to relax Tom or that frown will ingrain itself there.” 

He laughed and Tom scowled a little more just to spite him. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione tried to look nice, but casual. She ran her hands under the sink again so that she could use the water to help slick her hair back a little. Godric how long had it been since she tried to do this? And why the hell was she slightly nervous about it. She saw Oswin all the time at work and they had gone to many places together before. But that was because this was slightly different… wasn’t it? It had been nearly 12 years since she had done anything like this. Having a meal alone with a man. 

She exited the bathroom and made her way to the kitchen as Oswin would be showing soon. She patted her hands dry on her skirt. She would have liked to wear pants, but ladies of the time did not really wear pants. 

Whimsy smiled at her very knowingly. She looked so very smug from her place at the kitchen table. She sipped her tea. 

“Mistress should not be so worried. Whimsy knows that Mr. Cromwell will like whatever you make with him.”

“I am not worried.” Hermione shook her head, Gryffindors should not be worried about things as simple as cooking dinner. 

Whimsy just hummed. “Whimsy looks forward to the results, Whimsy will be in her room knitting as she doesn’t think that Miss would like if she was to supervise.”

“Godric no.” Hermione shook her head. “Nothing is going to happen either. We're just going to cook together, eat, and talk.” 

“Whimsy is glad that is not code for anything else, Miss.” 

Hermione felt her face heat as she realized what cooking might have meant. Her elf was definitely taking lessons from her when it came to openly speaking. Or she was just getting so old that it did not matter to her any longer. The knock on her door kept her from being able to make a reply. 

Hermione smiled as Oswin waved from behind the glass to her door. 

“Whimsy will see you in a bit.” She stood up taking her teacup with her towards her room. 

They made pasta and Hermione got out some of the wine that she kept in the cabinet.

It was very nice, actually to do something that was as mundane as eat a meal not alone with just her elf. They talked about old books, the news, work, people they knew. Hermione talked a little about some of her childhood and how she had used to travel. 

Conversation shifted to family and the joy that was before soured just a little as she thought of her parents, the Weasleys, and then of course Ron. 

“I miss them.” She said softly. “Tom did not get to know them and they never knew what he could be.” 

No they had just seen him as the monster that his mistakes combined with his rather less than pleasant upbringing had brought about. Voldemort was a monster, Tom was not him. He had attributes that did remind her, but he was not him. She didn’t know if anyone that she knew would have really liked him if they knew what he could grow into. But maybe if they did not know, they would see how he really was a loveable child. 

Oswin’s face fell a little. “I suppose that we share that in common. My family is not dead though, I am simply dead to them so it is slightly different.” 

Hermione nodded grimly when had the conversation taken such a turn, was there no way to get it back?

She reached over abandoning her wine glass so that she could grab onto his hand. “I am here if you want to talk about it.” 

He squeezed it and she could feel the roughness caused by heavy lifting and the easy strength behind it. “I can say the same. But if you want to know I know I can trust telling you.” 

She just rubbed against the scars on his hand with her thumb. “It's alright.” 

She did not know if it was true but he had a sad expression that wavered just slightly. There were things that not even she could fix, but that did not mean that she wouldn't try. 

He took a deep breath. “It's obvious that I never wanted to be a werewolf. I don’t remember much of the attack. I just know that it was near our home, and my brother and I were playing outside. It… or well I suppose they came. It's sometimes easier to think that they were a monster, but they really couldn’t help it. I think they were just like I was for a while roaming and trying to stay clear of people. But instincts in that form are overpowering and they caught smell of us. I was mauled pretty badly and when I was trying to push it out and shut the door it bit me.”

He stared off at the far wall. “My parents knew what it was and they tried I think to at least treat the wounds before they threw me out. But I honestly don’t completely remember. When you're bit, it's like a heat, a haze, and almost like you have a fever as new senses come to be and everything is overpowering. I was maybe 12 or 13 but who really remembers those things. Point is even now that I can control the beast inside of me… They still want nothing to do with me. I tried to step back into a life that I was no longer welcome in.” 

Tom was going to be 12. She did not want to think about leaving him to the elements. No child should ever go through that. She looked into those blue eyes and wondered just what else that he had been through. 

Was he as jagged and broken as she was?

Was he clinging to the past and other hopes? 

“Do they all want nothing to do with you, or are there any that you could connect with. Perhaps distant relatives?” She would help him if she could. No one should be all alone. She had Tom and now she had her friends. Oswin had friends through the company. He had her as one for sure, but it was nice to have someone to call family. 

He shook his head. “I don’t know much about my extended family but I think that maybe my brother would want something to do with me. If I can locate him. My parents were not very forthcoming with any information. I know that he is married though and has kids because the little one in their house smelt like him.” 

“I can’t really imagine what that would be like… I have good memories of those that are no longer with me. I miss them awfully. But if there is a chance for you to reconnect I will try to help you.” 

He laughed and it was a bit of a broken gruff sound. “You have already helped me greatly, it is because of you I am not afraid to walk around in public. I can numb the instincts of my other half and I feel like I have a place in the world. I’m not the only one, the others that you have employed feel the same. We wouldn’t be welcome in any other circles, but you make us feel that way.” 

“I could not have done it without you though.” She smiled at him. “Who else would have went along with my crazy plans.”

He shook his head again as if she was mad. “I think you could have, but the fact that you wanted to do it with me means a lot.”

There was a clink and they both broke eye contact.

Whimsy was behind them putting her teacup in the sink. “Do not mind Whimsy, she is just putting her dishes away.” The elf then carefully stepped off of the step stool and made her way out of the room. 

They talked a little while longer and before he left. He asked her if they could do it again. Hermione was glad that he wanted to considering that they had reminisced about painful things in their pasts, but she had agreed. She watched him make his way over across the road and towards the farmhouse and the greenhouses. 

Were they dating? The thought popped into her head. They spent a lot of time together and she wanted to spend more time with him and this felt like a date...

She was being stupid but she sort of wanted to put a label to it. Dating was a nice word, courting is what the time period would have called it. 

~/*\~ 

The news was never good. The more that Tom read the more that he did not like, and lost his appetite.He needed to stop reading things before he ate or during. Edgar would have said it took him ten times longer to eat with a book in front of him than not. But would rather he ate and read then read and never ate. 

The daily profit mentioned rising tensions in Germany and many countries around it. There was word of a man that was speaking out against Muggles as they seemed to be committing very heinous crimes. He was platforming that Wizards should be in power over Muggles, rule over them so that they would not be able to start another war on the scale that they had before. 

For the greater good was the message. And the man that was spreading it, his name was Grindelwald. 

There were a lot of people that were skeptical of the man as he had been in trouble with the law and his group that truly believed the greater good was to kill Muggles and others if necessary to set up this new and grand power dynamic. They had already started recruiting and campaigning. There were people that seemed to believe him. People that were getting vocal about it and Tom could only imagine that soon they would get physical about it.

This was what Mulciber was hinting at; he was sure of it.

Tom felt very uneasy about how things would play out as things in the Muggle world worsened and more people might flock to this man. There were enough people that hated Muggles and Muggle-borns even in his school. If all of them or even just a small number of them were to turn there really could be issues. He could not see things going well for his mother or their employees if this man was to really gain more control and more power in the world. He felt a little sick. People like Edgar and Myrtle were going to get caught in the crossfire. Tom could protect them in school, but he couldn’t outside of it. 

The day passed tensely. People were unsure what to think and Tom noted that most of the Muggle-borns were moving in pairs between classes. Edgar would wait for Myrtle every time that Tom was not with her. 

~/*\~

The following week was the first confirmed report of Grendlewalds people attacking a Magical mixed family in Germany. It had been a Muggle and a Witch. She had been tortured from what it sounded like, bound to the bed as the place burned around her. It was a horrible grisly death and the child was still missing. The Magical law enforcement community was convinced that it was a cover for stealing something that Grenelwalds people wanted. But there was no real way of telling.

Dumbledore was not in class for the remainder of the week and Tom wondered if it had anything to do with the paper. He might not have liked the man, but he did a lot of good in trying to help pass bills that dismantled the old families and purebloods power. He could not have been all bad, if he was trying to do something against this Grindelwald.

Not that he would ever forgive the man for barging into his home and trying to peer into their minds. 

It made things harder for some of the Midterms with one of the headteachers missing. But they made do.

~/*\~

Tom read over the letter to his mother crossing out a misspelled word every once and a while and adding a comma. It was a nice break from studying. And well everything else. He was very stressed with his higher level potions exam in the morning and then his charms one in the afternoon. 

He had his things packed and ready to go home. There were only a few more things that he needed to stuff into his trunk. But he couldn’t wait to get out of the castle and make sure things were alright back home. He loved his mother but he doubted that if something bad had happened that she would tell him right away because she would try first to protect him. 

Abraxas was at his desk reading over his notes for their Charms Midterm. Tom wasn’t worried about it having to teach the subject to Edgar and a few others that had joined as an improved study session had really helped him solidify that he would be able to perform the spells expected of him. Seemed like Abraxas was just fed up with it by the way that he closed his book. 

The blond then stood up and made his way over. 

Shani let out a very loud hiss of warning. ~The idiot that smells of flowers is coming this way.~ She flicked her tail and the spell placed on her broke. The larger snake was much more intimidating to most, but Tom preferred her at her larger size. It felt like she really could hug him that way and when she was bigger she was much easier to handle.

~I can hear him~ Tom hissed back. Because he was not deaf. 

“Tomas do you understand the theory behind vanishing spells?” 

He knew them very well. He had used one to kill someone by accident. He had been scared to use them for months after in the off chance that in his next magical outburst that was the first spell that it went for. He paused in his writing, there was no one else in their dorm room and no one would know about this conversation. 

Abraxas wouldn’t want anyone to know he stooped so low to talk to Tom. His roommate and him had finally come to an agreement they did not bother Tom and he did not bother them. 

“I do.” Tom turned to face him, “But if you’re looking for help certainly there are better candidates.” 

“You are one of the best in our class,” Abraxas said seemingly taken back by the bite behind Tom’s voice. 

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Tom hated him. He was a horrible pureblooded prat. 

He laughed forcibly. “Sure, but the question is why are you asking me? I thought your kind did not associate with people like me.” 

‘Admit it’ Tom thought. ‘Admit why you stopped writing to me and pretend that we never associated. 

Abraxas said that Tom was crazy when he used to say he was brilliant. He now said that they only spent time together because their parents and that even then Tom was no good. It was one thing to not want to be friends anymore it was another to lie, slander, and degrade a person. 

And the nerve of him trying to act like he hadn’t done anything and think that Tom would just help him like he did when they used to write to each other. 

“I never said that.” Abraxas narrowed his eyes. 

“Oh no, you only implied it.” Tom stood Shani raising herself from the desk. Her gray eyes shining in the candlelight. “You and most of Slytherin house are always talking about how great your blood is, and how it somehow makes you better Wizards and Witches. Why ask for help from a lowly Half-blood? Why not prove that you are better and figure it out yourself?”

“What's gotten into you?” Abraxas took a step back but held his gaze. “Everyone needs help every once and a while, certainly you can understand the concept.”

“There are a lot of people that need help, and the people that have the power to do something about it, stand by and do nothing all because of something as petty as blood. You might not actively participate in the physical bullying but you stand there, watch, and comment. Why would I help someone that wants nothing to do with me or those like me? And don’t say there are exceptions to every rule that is just ridiculous and you know it.” 

Abraxas glared at him. “Is this because my family stopped associating with yours?” 

“No. It's because I really want to understand why blood matters so much to people like you that you think that you can step on the rest of us and expect no push back. How you can justify killing or hurting us. Did it hurt when you cut ties with me, maybe but I am very over it.” 

Maybe he wasn’t if it still felt like betrayal to him... 

“We're magically superior, our houses date back to the founders of magic here in this country. We have culture and roots.” Abraxas sniffed like he couldn’t even stand talking to him or breathing the same air. “ I don’t expect someone like you to understand, your mother seems to take pleasure in demolishing what's left of heritage and good sense. Even if you are mixed-blood you probably still have some of Salazar Slytherin's blood in you. Tainted as it may be, your blood carries magic even if you don’t see it that way. Rituals with my blood would be far better than yours.” 

Tom blinked at him, was this what those supremacists told their children to brainwash them, or was Abraxas always this far gone and he just noticed it more when they turned 10? 

“I can’t believe you buy into that, whatever bloods in your veins is just as ‘tainted’ as mine. Ever notice how purebloods have issues with giving birth or have other medical problems? News flash it’s because of genetics. You inbreed and that causes you to be far less powerful, houses have ended because of it.” 

“There are problems, but that is why we have strict marriages to fix that.” Abraxas huffed. His nice blond hair had started to come out of the ponytail that he had it tied up with. 

Tom shook his head. “You are paired like dogs to each other to have the best offspring. At least we have a choice, if you want to marry someone else you might just get blasted off the family tree.” 

Walburga was talking about how her late cousin was no longer a Black because she dared to date a half-blood. Tom had overheard it. 

Abraxas curled his lip. “You better hope that Grendlewald doesn’t take power, I am sure your family will be the first to go.” 

He made his way out into the hall and Tom felt oddly better than he had in weeks. But a small part of him still hoped that Abraxas failed both on the charms exam but also joining Grindelwald if he really did try to rise to power.

~/*\~

“Free, Free. Free.” Myrtle sang as they made their way down the corridor and towards the main entrance. They would be taking the carriages back to the train platform and then it would be a long ride back to London.

“Free at last.” Edgar joined in and elbowed Tom so he muttered a Free as well before smiling a little as Edgar elbowed him again. 

“Don’t be a stick in the mud. Help sing our glorious hymn.” The Hufflepuff smirked. 

“Yes, it is the song of the student body.” Myrtle encouraged with a few more well-tuned Free, Free, Frees. 

“Are we to tell it from mountain tops?” Tom now was a bit more in spirit for the break. He had done well all O’s with the exception of Magical History where he had got an E. But really how was Tom to remember something on a written test that Binns had probably mentioned in passing as Tom always read the book. 

“I think the hilltops will do.” Edgar let Myrtle loop her arm through his to pull him along Tom had managed to dodge the attempt. “There are no mountains around here.” 

The train ride was nice; they settled into a smaller car and had the place to themselves as no one in their right mind would want anything to do with Tom Granger if he was not to get homework help. And it being break no one dared to bother them.

It left them to discuss everything and nothing at the same time. Eventually, Edgar fell asleep leaning on Tom and Tom stole his latest comics to read and catch up to where Edgar was. He wanted to know how the Dark Knight would solve his next big case. Superman was alright too he supposed. 

~/*\~

Hermione waited on the platform for Tom. There were a lot of people waiting around, bundled up nicely. Hoots had flown home last night. The poor bird probably wanted nothing to do with having to be in a cage and hauled back and forth. 

She was excited to see him. It felt like forever since she had seen him. The house was oddly empty without him and she would treasure all the time that she got to spend with him this holiday season. Though she was not sure what they would do for his birthday considering there was war threatening everywhere. England was just starting to take the threat that there could be one seriously, as many Jewish people were seeking asylum or visas. It would get worse. 1938 was not a bad year up until now as the Germans would soon start invading other countries. She wished that she could stop that, but she did not feel like even someone as ambitious as herself could dismantle something at that big of a scale, nor was sure about how much that would cause time to ripple. 

The loud whistle blew and the train braked loudly as it came to a stop. Hermione hoped that Tom would be able to find her in the crowd of people. And only a couple of minutes later she did spot him and waved very excitedly. 

He was talking with 2 other kids. One was a tall boy that had to be 2 heads taller than her son. He wore hand me down robes and was lugging a very large beaten-up trunk. He had wild brown hair that reminded her a lot of Harry’s. He was grinning widely and Tom looked to be arguing with him about something. On their right was a girl with large glasses and pigtails that one was higher up than the other. She was laughing and Tom shoved her for it and she pushed him right back.

Myrtle…the girl was mentioned in Tom’s letters. Hermione had not thought that it would be Moaning Myrtle, because certainly there was other Myrtles, but it was. Fate really did have a weird sense of humor. 

Tom noticed her waving and made his way over giving Myrle one more look. That had Edgar hunched over with laughter.

“Mother this is Edgar and Myrtle.” Tom introduced. 

“It's nice to meet you.” Edgar straightened up, wiping a little at his face. “Tom has asked me kindly not to say anything that will embarrass him, so perhaps all I should say is that.” 

He grinned as Tom rubbed at his face. 

“I have made no such promises.” Myrtle stuck out her hand. “I am Myrtle Warren and you are my hero. I have read all of your publications, and really aspire not to care as much about social norms as you do.” 

Hermione blinked. “Umm thank you.” 

Tom sighed loudly. “Myrtle and Edgar would like to come by this summer so I can help Edgar learn how to fly.”

“And while that's happening I plan to work on my commentating.” Myrtle smiled brightly. “I plan on getting the announcing position when Gray graduates.” 

“You just want to be able to be at all the games to scope out boys.” Tom scowled. 

“Maybe, but if I do a good job then I can enter journalism or radio announcing a lot easier.” Myrtle shrugged. 

Hermione watched them with odd amusement. What a group. They all had lunch together at the station as both Myrtle and Edgar had to get onto different trains to make it home. It gave her more time to watch her son interact with his friends. 

It was a pretty good balance of personalities. Tom was more withdrawn but was pulled into conversation either by Edgar or Myrtle that had excitement over different topics. These sometimes would make him smile and act along. If something became heated Edgar was the one to defuse it as both her son and Myrtle held strong opinions about things. It was rather like an abstract painting. Nothing appeared to go together but somehow the end result worked and was something rather strangely beautiful. 

As they watched Edgar board his second train of the day, Hermione turned to him. “I like them and am more than happy to have them come by this summer, but now that they are gone, I shall embarrass you in front of strangers.” 

Hermione wrapped him up in her arms, he smiled a big smile at that and hugged back. 

“I missed you.” He said so softly that she almost did not hear him. 

“I missed you too.” 

~/*\~ 

They spent a little while catching up over afternoon tea as Whimsy made dinner. Tom went to bed early as the train ride was long for him and Hermione figured that she would introduce the idea of Oswin spending Christmas with them in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all soon, nothing new to really say other than thanks for reading. 
> 
> ❀◕ ‿ ◕❀


	19. Part XIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad that so many of you love Myrtle I am sure that she would love to know that she is so well-loved. 
> 
> Anyways a good summary for this mess of a chapter its Feels! (ಥ ̯ ಥ)

It felt odd to be sleeping in his large bed. Paws was sleeping on his pillow next to his face. She gave a soft Mew as he reached up to stroke her, right along the neck and under her chin where she likes it. Tom slowly sat up. And Shani raised from her basket on the floor twisting out of the way as Tom made his way towards the shower. He shut the door in time to trap his too pets out of the bathroom. He would never understand the need for them to be in the room. He could ask Shani but was scared of what would be the answer. 

Tom rubbed the sleep from his eyes and ran a brush through his hair as the shower heated up. Shani let out small hisses but it was hard to hear her over the water. It had been a while since he could have a nice shower without the worry that halfway through it would get cold. Community bathrooms were disgusting and he never again wanted to see Avery strutting about naked. The very idea was nauseating. 

He took a far longer shower than probably was needed. He took extra time on his hair as it was a bit longer than he wanted it and would have to ask Whimsy to trim it down. His wet bangs were dripping water into his eyes. 

He dried his hair with a towel and then dressed. Paws was no longer waiting for him; she was downstairs and under his mother's feet. It was a bit of a change to see her warmed up to other people. 

“Good morning Tom.” She yawned. He had not seen her in her pajamas at breakfast in a long time. Things had slightly changed. He didn’t really like it. But then she did something familiar and reached a sleepy hand out and messed up his hair. “It’s getting pretty long. Do you like it this length?”

“I would like it a lot more if my bangs were not in my eyes,” Tom said honestly. 

She smiled at him, threading her fingers through it a little more to fluff it up. Tom rather liked it when his hair was not messy but he let her do it. She had not been around to do it. He had hit Myrtle a few times as she did it, but she never took the hint she kept joking that she could put ties into it. His mother was more gentle and her hands were warm as she used a bit of a heating spell to further dry his hair for him. 

“So, a trim or do you just want it cut shorter, Whimsy could do it or we could go to a salon.” She took her hand from his head and made her way over towards the coffee pot and started making Coffee. She always drank tea in the morning for as long as he had known her. She noticed his look. “Oswin got me addicted to coffee, the caffeine helps a little in the morning.” 

The werewolf… Tom had seen her in a few pictures of late with him. There were follow up articles with his mother and the man as they were seen together a lot more. 

His mother paused in her movements, “Is something wrong?”

“No, I think that a trim would be fine.” He lied, taking a seat at the table as Whimsy whisked ingredients to make omelets from the fridge. 

She nodded. Her hair was longer now and he could see little bits of gray and she was using glimmers around her face. She didn’t have to do that when they were alone. She didn’t have to hide who she was much like Tom knew that he could be himself around her and she wouldn’t judge him for it. She knew him. 

He tried not to frown. As she spoke how she also could go for a trim and that making a day out of it would be nice. She knew someone that would be more than happy to do it. 

She paused as she realized that he had not said anything in a while, wrapping her hands around the mug of coffee as if the warmth would help her. 

“You have gone very quiet Tom.” She looked at him with knowing brown eyes, eyes that matched his. 

He didn’t want to lie to her but he did not want to hurt her feelings. If there was anyone that he cared if he did that or not it was her. He could deal with Myrtle crying. It did not bother him that much, he had never seen anything hurt from Edgar so he did not know how he would react to that, but his mother… He didn’t think that he would ever be able to take her looking upset.

“I am just tired and it feels weird to be home.” He decided to go with a diplomatic answer. 

“It was hard to adjust when you were away.” She nodded. “The house was oddly empty and I had a very hard time concentrating on things. I really felt lonely.”

Yes, that was obvious now the weird prickles that he had gotten in his chest when he thought of home. He had missed her terribly. But it never occurred to him that he had been lonely. He had Edgar and Myrtle but there was an emptiness when he was alone in the dorm room that even Shani could not totally fill. Nightmares were a lot more frightening when one knew that there wasn’t someone that they could wake to talk to, or just make hot chocolate with and wait out the night. It had to be that feeling of wanting her near but then knowing that he had to grow himself. It was nice to hear that she missed him.

“School was an adjustment. I think I like it here better.” Tom nodded to himself more than her as Whimsy set down a few plates. 

“I hope that it gets easier for you.” She sat up a bit smiling again. “When I left for school, I did not make friends till Halloween and of course I did not have much of a choice, there was an incident with someone letting a troll into the school and your father and my best friend took it upon themselves to save me from it because I was not where I should have been. I blame your father of course. Ron was quite an idiot when I first met him, thought that I was strange for knowing so much, and called me awful names. So I was in the bathroom crying. I was far too emotional at 12.” 

“Like what?” Tom blinked. “What did he call you?” His mother did not talk about her past much, it was small things not fleshed out stories at least not when it involved Ron, his father was a hard topic. But she was not near teary-eyed talking about him. She seemed to be remembering it all fondly. 

“Oh he said that I was a nightmare for correcting him in charms, he also thought me to be a know-it-all and a few other choice words about being smart. I am sure that if I had glasses he would have made fun of those too. But then again Harry did wear them.”

Tom had never heard about this side of him. “How did he save you from the Troll.” 

“Oh, Well the Troll made its way into the bathroom and started to smash sinks and the stalls with its large club. Harry and Ron made it in time to attack it with brute force rather than magic at first. Harry stuffed his wand in the thing's nose trying to hold on to cast something and Ron he just panicked till I told him to swish and flick his wand to make the club float. The troll was bonked on the head hard and collapsed. We got into so much trouble, Tom. They said our house was brave, but then I think it failed to mention that it to other people would look like stupidity and one can not help but become friends after that.” 

“America has houses too.” He tried to clarify hoping that she would tell him more about her school. Perhaps that would help with the strangeness of the Hobbit book. 

“Yes 4 houses. There is the Horned Serpent that favors Scholars, the Wampus warriors, Thunderbird favors adventures, and Pukwudgie that favors healers. I was placed into the house of adventures, even though I had thought myself a scholar for the longest time. The bird beat its wings and I knew that was where I had to go. You see much like the hat, the carved statues know things. Things that a person knows not about themselves. I had ventured into a world that was strange to me, as magic was not used much in our small home. I was scared and I was worried about all sorts of things. But I wanted to learn, and I did not care where that learning would take me. Some would call that brave.” 

Adventures…. The Hobbit book had mentioned that. 

He felt like asking but was nervous suddenly too. She looked very happy at that moment. 

“I know that you don’t like your house by the sound of it. But I am sure that there are reasons that you were placed there. It will come in time.” She stood and put her cup into the sink. 

He had to ask. If he didn’t it would just keep nagging at him and it was probably nothing. 

“Ma. I have noticed that the books you lent me for school are missing some of the publisher's information. It made quoting them a little difficult.”

She only stiffened a tad at that. She then turned not at all seeming phased. “When we were on the run I stole a lot of books. I am not saying that stealing was right, but when you need to know advanced spells and such to stay alive I find that it is justified. The front page or where the publication is printed is usually where one would draw a rune. Its purpose is to not let someone leave a library with it without checking the book out or stealing it should it be in a store.

“I see.” That still did not solve the Hobbit but that did explain the other books. 

“I'm sorry that most of the books are that way. But I can look into dates for you and such if you ever need, or I would recommend using the librarian at school.” Her smile was weak. “ I hope that you do not think less of me.” 

He realized that he was frowning deeply, “No, I know stealing is wrong but you needed them.” 

She nodded relief flooding her features. “I shall get dressed so that we can go and get your haircut. I will need to stop by our shop later to make sure that Mordred gets the night crew started properly with our new delivery routes and safety contracts. I hope that is alright?” 

Tom nodded. 

~/*\~ 

The day was full. Hermione liked to keep busy, but the slow moments were also important. Oswin had reminded her of that. She watched Tom getting his hair trimmed telling the stylist exactly what he wanted and then she would look over to Hermione, much to Tom’s displeasure. He wanted to be treated as an adult. She had known that since he had turned 9 and he tried to help her start up her business for real. But in moments like this, she just couldn’t help but notice how childish he still was. 

She had worried about him when he was off at school, even if she had tried her best to trust that things were okay behind the letters that he sent. But it was hard. The world was starting to fall apart, as there were more attacks happening in Germany not that the Profit would print all of them. They were worried about the possible backlash from Muggle-borns, and Half-bloods. They would either want to get involved in the fighting or they would want laws in place to protect them from Grindelwald. 

The Ministry at this time did not want to make political moves that would upset the other side of the coin which would be their Pureblood backers. But Hermione knew that the attacks against Muggles and Muggle-born Witches and Wizards was made possible and easy to cover with the way that Hitler's forces were making the Jews exit the country in mass numbers. Grindelwald was feeding off the hate and passing out booklets that described what he thought about the world. A friend of hers had acquired some of them as proof that there needed to be something done about the man. But there was little that could be done. At least at the moment. 

She did not know how these shifts would affect Tom as he was living in one of the politically based house. One that had very high running beliefs in blood purity. But she knew that he was strong to have made friends with who he had and she was glad that he did have friends. Even if those friends would be hard to keep with the building pressure. Yes, she worried about her Tom. She worried about the draw of dark magic, and the draw for others to hurt him based on her beliefs that she had helped to instill in him. 

He was very good at masking things, but she could feel the contempt that made its way into the letters. He liked learning but he did not really like school. She could not help but feel that the hat had brought her son a real test in will as he would have done better socially in any of the other houses.

They ate lunch together and Hermione was reminded that while there were horrible things in the world there were nice things too. She felt better with him telling her stories about Edgar and Myrtle and the things that he was learning or interested in. Tom was talking again much like he had when he was little, jumping topics and saying a hundred things a minute. He was animated and much more alive then he had been when he had come downstairs in the morning. 

Dinner was at home and Whimsy allowed Tom to help her prepare some of it. While they were spending time together Hermione set about making sure that she had all the information ready to go for the evening meeting. 

“Tom do you have any plans over winter break?” Hermione put some of the stew into her bowl. 

He shook his head bringing his spoon up to his mouth and holding it there a moment before speaking again. “I just wanted to spend it with you. Maybe switch out some of the books I have in my trunk for new ones.” 

She nodded. “I was putting together a Yule party.”

“The company one?” He paused in his eating. 

“No, well yes there will be that again of course but I was thinking of having a few people over here on the day of Yule.” 

He tilted his head as if considering it. “Who would be coming.” He finally asked. 

“I would like to invite Sara and Larus over as they do not have much family to speak of to spend it with, and Oswin.” 

Tom looked at her as if waiting for her to say another name when she didn’t he got a strange look on his face. “Why is he coming?” 

She had not told him much of Oswin, mostly because Hermione wanted to make sure that it was official that they were a couple before she tried to introduce the idea to her son. She knew that Tom would probably not like it as he was very protective of her. She could understand that as she was to his knowledge his only living family. But she hoped that he would be accepting of it. 

“Because I have grown very fond of him.” She said calmly and watched the darkening expression on Tom’s face take shape. 

“Fond of him…” He muttered. “Define fond.” 

“We are dating. It was not planned but we became close after the work we put into trying to make sure that the werewolf regulations bill did not pass.

“After you spent the night with him in a wolf form.” Tom was now bristling; she could see it in the way that he was trembling a little. This was getting out of hand and it was rather quickly.

“Yes, it was my idea. I had to do something drastic in order to keep the vote from being cast incorrectly. That was my on the spot solution. Oswin was just kind enough to go along with it. We talked and became quite good friends and now that has led to possibly more.”

“You don’t know him. You can’t possibly know him.” Tom glared at her with eyes that she had never seen him direct towards her. “Why did you not tell me?” 

Where had this anger come from? 

Why was he looking at her like that? 

She sat up in her seat. “I think that it is you that do not know him Tom and I would like to rectify that. Oswin is a good man and if I am going to be in a relationship with him I would like to give you both the chance to get to know each other.” 

“I don’t like him,” Tom said, ignoring her. “I don’t like him at all.” 

He was standing now looking at her with darkened brown eyes that seemed to be able to stare into her soul. His hands were little fists. 

“You don’t know much about him and certainly not enough to pass judgment.” Hermione did not rise. She would not intimidate her son like that by looming over him. 

“He is a werewolf.” Tom spat back at her. “Do you know what sort of connotation that has with your dating one?”

She stilled, of course, she knew. She heard the rude whispers and negative comments. She lived with it and so did Oswin. 

“Tomas.” Hermione now was actually starting to feel her own temper burn. “I raised you better than that. It matters not if Oswin is a werewolf, as it is nothing but an affliction once a month.” 

“No, it shouldn't matter that he is one. But it does. It does matter.” Tom’s lip trembled as much as the rest of him. His pale face had color to it as he was trying to put whatever it was into words. “I leave and you just listen to your bleeding heart and don’t think about the consequences.”

It causes her to stand up now because he would not lecture her like that. He would not talk to her like that. She had never demanded respect for herself from him, but she did deserve it. Angry or not he shouldn’t be speaking to her in such a tone. “Tomas even if you are upset, think about how you are speaking to me.” 

“I am thinking about it.” Tom hissed back at her. “It is the only way to make you listen to me. Don’t date him.”

“Give me a good reason, one real good reason that you do not like him and why you would deny me this happiness.” She looked in his eyes and he did not look away. He did not flinch, or back down by the heat to her words. 

“I have to listen to that every single day on how you are going about changing the world. And that is great and all but everyone in my house wants you dead!” He hurled it at her with every part of him. He had never been loud, she never had him scream at her before. “I hate school because I always feel like I am at war. A war I didn’t want to choose. I have to fight with people that think less of me, that think I am crazy because of you and all that you believe! 

His eyes were getting a bit misty now. “Everyone loves or they hate you and that gets pointed back to me from everyone. They are looking for reasons and you’re practically inviting them at this point. Grindelwald is out there and everyone's telling me how he will go for you. You want happiness, what about mine!” 

She stood still and shocked and her anger dissipated to something she could not place and that something must have shown on her face because Tom saw it. He looked at it and he had tears in his little eyes and he bolted. He ran right out the back door tearing his coat off the wall with him. 

She watched him stunned for a second looking at the spot at the table that he was no longer inhabiting and sat down defeatedly in her seat, her head in her hands. She let tears fall from her eyes. They slipped down her cheeks and she looked at places where they landed. And sucked in a very deep breath, rubbing at her face. 

She stood to grab her coat but Whimsy stopped her. “Master Tomas needs space. Whimsy shall watch over him, talk to him, and bring him back in a little while. She can pop to where he is at any time.” 

Hermione hesitated feeling the fabric to her wool jacket, letting out a couple of deep breaths again before nodding. She didn’t know what she would say to him if she was to catch up to him at this moment. 

~/*\~ 

Tom ran. 

He didn’t have a real destination in mind. 

He just ran. 

His coat was unzipped and his shoes one of them was untied. He felt his eyes rubbing at them with the back of his hand as he ran. The cold air burned his lungs as he gulped down air and he didn’t stop even when he slid a little on the ice that was on the dirt road. He stumbled and managed to stay on shaky legs as he continued to run. 

He ran past his mother wards, up the far hill and down the trail and towards the pond. The steepness to the incline made him crash hard and he paused there on the wet frosty ground. He looked up at the trees from his place on his back and caught his breath. Thin trails of vaper twisted around his head as it went towards the sky, blown away by the breeze. 

He sniffled and scrubbed more at his eyes. The tears freezing against his cheeks that would have been warm in any other setting but were cold and red by the fridge late night air. 

Pathetic.

Absolutely Pathetic. 

That was what he was. 

A coward too. 

A pathetic coward.

He shouldn’t have run, and he should not be lying on the ground a crying stupid mess. But he was, as he did not have the strength to get up at the moment. His breathing ragged, dizzy, and his stomach feeling nauseated to the point where he might vomit. He rolled to his side and pushed himself up onto his knees. 

He could see the pond. It was frozen over and someone had put a bench there. It had some icicles that were frozen to the bottom of the armrests. He slowly made his way over and sat down. He was slightly damp from his tumble and it was cold, very cold but he didn’t really feel it till he stopped. But now he could really feel it. 

Even more reason that running away was a stupid thing to do. 

He sniffled again and rubbed the snot from his face with his coat sleeve, moving cold fingers to do the buttons and then pulling them back into his sleeves. 

He made her cry. He had seen them forming in her eyes. He had never made her cry before nor had he ever made her so angry at him. 

He had deeply upset her. 

His words held power he knew that. It was what made Abraxas hate him and drove the wedge between him and the student body. He had said what he thought, he had fought for what he had always been taught and that made him hated, feared, and angry so angry.

He should have just kept his stupid mouth shut. 

He was always making things worse for himself. 

Edgar had told him that his frown was going to cement itself onto his face, and perhaps it was. He hardly had fun or was happy at school the only time that he felt that he could be those things was when he was huddled in that nice corner on the 3rd floor with his friends. Friends that people wanted to torment and hurt so he had to always be alert for them, because if Tom did not defend them who would?

He had a lot of anger. He had always had it burning like a blaze inside of him. He shifted it through potions and with using his magic in constructive ways, but he always felt it. He had always filtered that drive and need to do things that were predictive. School had made it worse. He was nearly always on edge. 

He didn’t want to tell her that…

He didn’t want her to know how he was struggling. It wasn’t her fault and he had shifted it to her because he was angry. She might have helped add to it, but it was not her fault. It never would be…

She was like Tom unable to watch those that were weaker suffer. 

But it did not curb that horrible feeling that clung to his insides. He couldn’t take those words back… 

Even if he apologized it wouldn’t change that he had said them, that truth was hinted there. And it did not change that ever since he had come back he felt almost out of place as if the world had moved on without him. The one place where he felt like he had control and things made sense. Where people were simple and predictable, had changed.

It was no longer the same staple that it once was. Paws now sought his mother more than she did him for affection. Whimsy and his mother had inside jokes. And she had grown closer to other people. She had grown away from him, into someone that not only smiled more but was a person that even looked different. 

And what of Tom?

He had not changed that much. He had just stumbled around in school blocking out the world with the time he could with friends and killing the rest of it with books. He had not adapted the way that he wanted to.

He had wanted to become strong, dependable, and he had not become any of those things if his first instinct was to run when things got hard and to yell at the only person that truly mattered. 

He was supposed to protect her, and she was putting herself out there more and more. Tom could not catch up. He could not stop someone like Grindelwald. He could not stop people like Abraxas' family and the Blacks or the Lestranges with all their influence from coming after her.

She was strong, but she shouldn’t have to do it alone, nor should she be courting death. 

But even with all those things, there was something that worried him even more so. Even more than his anger, his fear of her putting herself in harm's way. It was that insecurity of being inadequate. 

He shuddered, pulling his coat closer to himself. 

He had always been enough for his mother and now he wasn’t...

She had replaced him with someone else to love and care for. 

He didn’t want to compete…

He wanted her to himself as selfish as that was because as long as he had her love nothing else mattered. He did not need acceptance from others as long as she accepted him. When She had said she missed him, Tom had felt relieved at that, because that meant that she had not forgotten about him. 

That he mattered to her just as much as she mattered to him. 

All he had wanted to do was spend the whole break with her. It didn’t matter what they did, just as long as he was with her. Things could be normal. Things could make sense again. They could forget about responsibilities other than working on potions, having tea in the afternoon, and talking about books. 

But it was not the same. 

Nothing in the world was what it was…

And he could not go back to that better less fearful time. 

She loved someone else… and he didn’t want to have to compete over that love. Not because he was scared that he would lose. He was her only child, he was hers and she was his. There had never been anyone else that could come between. She would choose him of that he was certain at least for now.

Tom feared that eventually though she wouldn’t. 

It had never been a fear for him before. It had been when it came to his reluctant friendships. But it had never been a fear when it came to his mother. 

What if he changed into something that she could not love?

What if she never forgave him for the things that he said?

He rubbed at his eyes again and he noticed that there was suddenly someone that was next to him. Whimsy in a tight coat and a thick knit hat. She put a hat onto his head and then pulled out of her pocket some gloves for his hands. Before she sat her ancient self down on the bench next to him. 

She did not say anything nor did she make any other moves to comfort him. They sat in silence for a little while before Tom broke the silence.

“Did you come to take me home?” 

“No. Whimsy came to make sure that Master Tomas did not freeze while he collected his wits.” She said simply. 

He rubbed his now gloved hands against his legs to try to warm them. 

“You know Master Tomas. The past is a bucket of ashes, it is gone and can not be rebuilt no matter how we try, one can not build a tree back once the wood has burned. So it’s important that we don’t live in the past. Mistress has spent a very long time holding onto ashes of a love that she no longer has. Whimsy thinks that it's important not to live in your yesterdays either. She thinks that living just for tomorrows, is just as bad. Because the future is uncertain. Perhaps things have changed that you don’t like. Maybe there are bad things that are to come. But there is also the here and now. And Whimsy knows that the now can be happy.”

Tom looked at her. 

“Whimsy spent her whole life worrying about what needed to be done for the next day to please her past masters, she worried about what could have been done when she made mistakes. Miss Hermione taught Whimsy to live in the now. To enjoy what she hads and to keep moving and forget the post mortems; and remember, no one can get the jump on the future. Tomas wants to protect and keep his mother safe from a threat that might not ever happen. He fears what has not yet to come. Perhaps forgetting what is. Whimsy thinks that he should enjoy the now. Spend time with his mother and be happy with her when they are together.”

He held onto his knees a little harder. “I said things that hurt her, I made her cry.”

That horrible feeling climbed up in his insides again, near choking him with its awful feeling. 

“And that is now the past. You can now apologize and work things out with her. Just as she can try to help you now that she knows there are other things bothering you.” The old elf moved closer to him and put her gloved hand on his arm. “Whimsy knows that Mistress loves Tomas. She remembers the first day that she met Tomas and his mother. Tomas was born too early, small and frail, was he. Miss was scared to even put you down. She had to get a copy of the birth certificate and it was freezing out, much like it is now and she told Whimsy to hold you but looked like she did not want to leave. Whimsy also remembers when Master Tomas would sneak out of bed no matter how well he was placed there and go and sleep if not in her bed on the floor. Love like that doesn't change. And nothing will come between unless Master Tomas lets it.” 

He sat a little longer with Whimsy on that bench. He felt her hand on him, thin small fingers that were warm through the gloves. He watched the small birds that stayed the winter flapping around the beach. Cawing loudly to each other. The moon poked through the thick clouds. Whimsy was calm against him not paying much mind to anything. He looked at her wrinkly face and her tired eyes. Her large eyes were heavy behind her glasses. 

He had never had a grandmother but he never felt more than he did have one in her. She held onto his arm and patted it, and he could remember when she had been taller than him. When she would wag her finger at him for running through the house covered in mud from outside. He remembered the way that she would check on him whenever he was quiet too long no matter where he hid. Perhaps Whimsy loved him too. 

They sat there until he was ready to face his mother again with an apology. 

~/*\~ 

Tom did apologize and his mother helped to calm his fear about Grindelwald. They talked for many hours long enough for his mother to push back her meeting at the store to another night. And Tom felt stupid for ever thinking that she would love him less. He still might not have liked the idea. He actually hated the idea that anyone would try to get close to her like that, but he did not want her to be unhappy. It mattered to him for some reason enough that he was willing to sacrifice a little bit of his to give Oswin a chance. Which was really all that his mother wanted, because his opinion mattered to her. She would never keep someone that close to her if Tom had a good reason for not liking them.

~/*\~ 

Christmas was a little awkward, but Tom reluctantly could acknowledge that the werewolf did love his mother. And he didn’t like the way that she would touch the man’s arm but he could not deny that she was happier than she was before on the holiday. 

Myrtle true to her word sent him a _The Maltese Falcon, _a book that she claimed was the one that invented crime novels. _How to Win Friends and Influence People _was sent to him by Edgar who Tom suspected did so more of a joke than an actual thoughtful present because it was accompanied by a few comic books that he scribbled a card for that said certainly not for your birthday.____

____At the employee Christmas party Bleft proposed to Milly and there was a pause before she strangled him with a hug, crying yes over and over again. It became apparent that Tom was going to be invited to one of the strangest weddings of all time as Goblin culture and that of Elf culture were going to somehow be crammed together into some unholy blend in order to make holy matrimony._ _ _ _

____His birthday was spent around the house. It was quiet and he really found that it was one of the better ones that they had celebrated. There was no rushing about, just cake and a few gifts. His mother had bought him a well-made leather and rune-covered wand holster, so he could wear his wand even in Muggle clothing or within easy reach in his school clothes._ _ _ _

____“When summer starts I am going to teach you more defensive magic. The way that things have been, we can not afford not to be prepared.” She didn’t look like she wanted to admit that things were getting dangerous but Tom was glad that they were both on the same page again._ _ _ _

____She had also gifted him more mind magic books, as she feared that there would be others than just Dumbledore that peered into his head. But towards the back of the first one Tom found a section about not exactly protecting the mind but invading others._ _ _ _

____~/*\~_ _ _ _

____Hermione didn’t want to take Tom to the train station a couple of weeks later. It again felt like it was hard to let him board the train. Especially knowing what she now did about the state of Hogwarts and her son’s placement in his house._ _ _ _

____She tried to not let it show as they arrived early so that they could have breakfast with Edgar and Myrtle as they made it to the station on their respective trains. They were more carefree it seemed than Tom would ever be. They might have known a war was possible but they were not scared, they did not think that it would reach them. Tom was not blessed with that illusion of safety and neither was Hermione. When she learned of their home's locations it made her need to get her bills passed sooner than later. Liverpool was one of the cities that took the most damage during the blitz._ _ _ _

____Tom let her hug him before he boarded, not seeming too embarrassed by the action as his friends decided to be merciful when it came to watching the hug. When he left she did feel the absence but it was not as hard this second time. She knew that she would see him in the summer and she was looking forward to teaching him more defensive spells and running the shop with him again._ _ _ _

____Lavorx was looking forward to seeing Tom again. He wanted to teach him more about economics and was disappointed as the winter break had not allowed for them to meet to discuss politics. Hermione’s other employees were just glad that they got to see him at the Yule party._ _ _ _

____He is growing up very quickly Mox said looking at the more recent photo that was on Hermione’s desk._ _ _ _

____“He is,” Hermione said softly. Part of her wished for him to be like Edgar and Myrtle more carefree and willing to enjoy his childhood. But the fact that he wasn’t was an efflorescence of his adult-like nature._ _ _ _

____~/*\~_ _ _ _

____She spent the next few weeks doing her best to set up for her Muggle-born inclusion bill that involved helping to secure new additions to the Magical World fair prices on their books, and other essentials, as well as the option of paying someone to be a tutor or to provide them books about Wizard culture so there was not so much of a sudden shock. It would help, she was sure, for children to relate better and to make friends if they were not accidentally saying things that could be offensive, or nagging others for answers every few minutes. Her second proposition was to push forward protection acts for those that could be targeted if Grindelwald was to gain traction but also if there was to be a second world war that there were wards in place for the most vulnerable of populations. Muggles that had magical children. They wouldn’t be able to ward their homes to protect them against bombs or tanks._ _ _ _

____She waited another month before bringing her near finalized proposal to Sara and Larus. They read over it the morning of March 31 just as it was made known that Britain and France signed a treaty with Poland, promising to help defend Poland's western border._ _ _ _

____“It is really coming down to a second World War,” Sara said grimly._ _ _ _

____Hermione nodded, sharing her ill-feeling. “It is.”_ _ _ _

____“Then we can not afford to wait on this. The second that bombs start falling it will be too late.” Sara looked over at her husband._ _ _ _

____Larus shook his head. “This will not be easy to pass, even if it is the right thing to do. I can bring as many people as I can onto this, even be the one that proposes it. But there is no guarantee that it will not sit around for another couple of months as the Ministry does its best to pretend that it doesn’t exist and that there are more important things to vote on.”_ _ _ _

____Hermione rubbed at her tired face. “By that time it might be too late.”_ _ _ _

____She had been working so hard, thinking about subsections and pre-existing laws. It took so long to mull over everything and make it into something that wouldn’t take too long to fix and propose. She should be happy though that Larus would propose it and make it look more like his idea. It might help in keeping Tom safe, even if it could cause her friends to put themselves at the front lines._ _ _ _

____“It is best that it happens even if a little later than not at all.” Sara reached her hand out to place it on Hermione’s arm. “We have to have to have faith.”_ _ _ _

____Hermione did not have much faith in people anymore, humanity really. But she would try to have faith in her friends. She would try to have hope that they could make a difference._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom, of course, your mother still loves you, you walnut. And Hermione be mindful of your son's feelings and the danger that your good intentions can bring to others. 
> 
> So much fun coming in the next chapters. (Well perhaps fun is not the correct word perhaps a better word would be excitement.)
> 
> Stay safe out there. 
> 
> (▰˘◡˘▰) ~♥ See you all soon ~♥


	20. Part XX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go again a chapter of how many references to future events and plot can I shove into one chapter and still make it enjoyable. Let's find out! 
> 
> (￣▽￣;)

Tom landed on his backside for what must have been the hundredth time and felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He sat up onto unsteady feet slowly taking in a few very long breaths. He managed at least not to lose his wand this time around. 

“Hold your wand higher.” His mother instructed him. “And not as tightly.” She added as an afterthought. 

They had been practicing shielding spells and each time his would break to a strong Flipendo, the knockback spell, by his mother or an expelliarmus. Yes basic spells, but with someone that was powerful and had will behind it, they shattered. Having to retrieve his wand after every failure was embarrassing enough but being thrown a few feet back and onto the ground was another version of low. 

He took in another deep breath listening to her. He had been through this dance so long that he had slight bruises on his stomach and arms. But he would not give up until the time for the lesson was up. It was one of the rare things that they got to do together alone. 

Tom did not hate Oswin. He had tried to because if he did then things would be a lot easier. But he couldn't, other than when Oswin called him Tommy he was too nice, too considerate, and too good at his job of making his mother happy. Which were all annoying things, but not enough to hater someone over. Not really, but he did not like sharing. 

He was trying to give his mother space, and let her have a go at a relationship. But he would be lying if he said that he liked that feeling that always seemed to creep into his guts when they were looking at each other. It was a mix of nausea and something else. He was not exactly sure of. Like his other emotions besides anger, fear, and sadness it was strong. Things like guilt which he had recently learned the term for and loneliness were not things that he felt as strongly. Guilt was not something he felt if it was not connected to his mother or Whimsy. 

His distracted thoughts made the shield that he made shatter into colorful fragments and he this time lost his wand. 

“I think that is enough for today.” His mother lowered her wand and made her way over to him. He knew in the past that she had worked as a healer and she had shown her skill at it when it came to helping to heal his bruises. 

He held out his arm to her. It was warm, the spell always felt that way and tingly. Light magic was supposed to feel that way. But there were those like him that had a hard time with those sorts of spells. Tom had tried and he was pretty sure that it had nothing to do with his capability as a wizard. He could do a lot of advanced charms. Things like Hexes and Curses came easily. Offensive spells in other words and possibly mean ones for pranks or payback. His mother was a light magical Witch, gray at worst. But Tom had a feeling that he would never be considered light. 

“Good as new.” She looked him over, and then messed up his hair just slightly. “You are getting better. I can feel a strong resistance to your shield.”

Somehow he did not believe her. Because if he was getting better he would not be getting tossed. 

“I mean it Tom.” She shook her head, “You are very strong for someone your age.” 

Ah there it was someone his age. Tom supposed that he was good at a lot of things that a typical 12 year old would not be good at. But that didn’t mean that he was anywhere close to being able to defend or even block someone that was trained to fight and he certainly wouldn’t be able to block a Muggle bullet. 

She sighed softly and he felt as if he again disappointed her. She stood up and then helped him up so that they could go inside for lunch.He was not like other children he supposed not as happy certainly. It was hard for him to feel that. When he was successful at something or he really found something interesting or motivating maybe he would smile. But he was not going to smile to half honest complements. 

Sometimes he wished that he was older. He would already be good at these sorts of things and he would be better suited in keeping her safe. 

As they walked he looked at the back of her head. She had a few gray streaks in her hair but now that he was looking they did not exactly seem natural not that he had spent a lot of time staring at Professor Galatea Merrythought but he could always tell when she was dying her hair and it needed another go because the roots were that color that and thy never seemed to be in any type of pattern. His mother also was using glimmers, small ones but he could still see them, feel them if he touched her. He might not have touched her face but he could feel it around the old scar. It hummed like the wards under his finger tips. 

He could dispel it. He was pretty sure, but that would be rude. He had mentioned before that she didn’t have to wear them when it was just the two of them, but she had ignored that request or danced around it like she seemed to do to most things that she did not want to answer. Tom did not think it was a bad thing if she was getting older. Who cared what they looked like anyway? 

But his mother seemed to want to hide whatever it was behind the spells. 

His frown deepened. 

~/*\~

“Again.” Hermione instructed as Tom’s shield broke. It at least could last one of her spells now. But it would shatter after that and even if Tom did not go flying the first time he would the second the other spell landed. Her son got up breathing hard and put the shield up again. She attacked it with a strong Expleurmas and it shattered again under it but Tom held onto his wand. 

“Good.” She nodded. 

He smiled weakly, she should stop the lesson here. She could tell that he was tired and pushing him when he was this tired was not going to help much. He really was improving. Not in the way that she knew that he wanted to or the rate, because Tom was a perfectionist it seemed when it came to everything. But he was improving. If she cut the lesson here she was sure that he would be upset that he could not make it the full hour. 

“Let us try something else.” She motioned him over and he came closer. “I use Flipendo to knock you back. But the spell can be blocked and returned to the sender with stronger level shielding spells that we are working towards but it can also be more charge up with holding onto the spell a little before casting it. This makes the effect more potent, likely to get past weaker shields without rebounding.”

She demonstrated the way to hold onto it, till there was a slight red tint to the tip of her wand rather than blue and then she let it go at the pot that was by the fence it went back harder than what she had been using against Tom and shattered. 

“I would like you to practice this as I would like you to try to use it against my shields eventually.” He nodded and she conjured a few pots for him to practice on. “Repair them after you break them please.” 

Tom nodded again that very determined look was on his face. 

He got it down in two tries. 

He seemed a lot better at offensive spells and if he could use his own wand and not the practice one she was sure that he would be doing even better. But she did not want the Ministry snooping around her home, nor did she want to have to deal with anyone trying to get Tom into trouble for using magic outside of school. Even though she was one hundred percent sure that all the pureblood families got away with teaching their children things early and over the summer. 

She decided to teach him another offensive spell that he could practice. Glacius was just a spell that formed ice, it could put out small fires and freeze a target with enough force behind it to at least give frostbite. Tom was enjoying that one a little bit more as he was creating a little bit of a winter wonderland with the amount of times that he used it. His breath came out in vaper trails even with the warm day and he seemed fascinated by it. 

They wrapped up the lesson there.

~/*\~

The summer heat was nice. Tom laid on his back looking up at the sky as the clouds floated over. Above him were birds that were flying and cawing at each other. Shani was laying across him. She had finally reached max size and her large belly was resting on his chest. He pet her sleepy, not knowing what to do with his time now that he had completed his reading for the day and practicing with his mother some of the more advanced defensive spells.

She was going to have him attack her soon. She wanted to see if he could do them if someone was firing at him. Tom did not know if he could…

He paused in his strokes. 

~You should not stop~ 

He raised his head to find her looking dead into his eyes, her tongue flickered in and out of her mouth and brushed against his nose. 

~Is that right?~

~Yes, it feels too nice for you to stop.~

He smiled slightly. Starting to drum a little his fingers against her spine. 

~That's fine too.~ She hissed in acceptance. He was pretty sure that snakes and any animal really like being pet once they got over the initial shock of what it was.

His friends would be coming soon. He looked forward to them visiting. They had been sending post to each other and he looked forward to Edgar’s as he talked a lot about the farm and sent seeds or small interesting things like stones that he found in the fields. Tom had a little box going for the small by shiny things. Myrtle sent him Muggle articles and mostly wanted to talk about books. Tom had a feeling that she was bored out of her mind not being able to learn magic over the summer.

Tom felt a little bad for her. 

~/*\~

Hermione opened her home to two Muggle-born children that had never seen a Magical home, nor traveled by apperation before. They were both quite fascinated by Whimsy, having never met a house elf. She would give the old elf credit she answered questions graciously and didn’t get offended by some of Myrtles more nosy questions. One’s that she noticed Tom making faces at her for. 

She sat and watched them play outside. Tom was a very good flier and he seemed very patient with teaching Edgar more than the basics, he showed him how to dive, and how to use momentum to move faster up and down, and how to ride the wind. 

Myrtle the whole time made commentary from about the height they were at and about how fast they were going. She did say some teasing things like Tom would probably fly better if his longer bangs were not blowing into his face, and Edgar would do better if he was not spending his time zoned out and staring at Tom. Both boys took delight in chasing her when they landed around the house for some of the comments. 

It seemed like he was happy. She hadn’t seen him that happy in a long time. It was innocent, carefree, and something that she was not able to bring him. She wished for more of it. The world was becoming a dark place. All the Jewish stores and enterprises had shut down according to one of her friends that traveled to Germany frequently for business. She knew that come August when Tom did go back to school the real war would begin. Poland would be invaded and things would only escalate from there. 

She was not religious but she prayed to what she did not know that nothing would happen to Tom’s friends, she prayed that war on the wizarding side would stay away from them. She prayed that they could be innocent for a little while longer and so carefree. 

~/*\~ 

Hogwarts was again a place that Tom felt like he was fighting a mini-war. Things were not all well in the Wizarding World and he had been sheltered from it while he had been in their small town, in their safe corner of the world. People were bringing pamphlets even if they were banned by the headmaster into the school they were for Grindelwald's ideals, his strategy, his goals. 

There were whispers that he might be right. 

There were people that wanted to join him. 

There were those that were directly opposed. 

It made things very tense in most places that were not the classroom as one never knew who was thinking what. It was a hot debate in all houses even if there were no clear acts of physical aggression towards those that were on the other side of the argument. Tom did not know how long that would last. The people in his house were particularly split and very argumentative about the whole thing. 

The one thing that he could say was good that had happened besides the ease up on some of the harder homework assignments from his advanced classes was that Edgar had made his house team. He was on back up for the Chaser position, a substitute was better than nothing at all. And Edgar had a feeling it was just because he was so young. 

It did not stop Myrtle and Tom from making it a goal to see all of the matches, in the chance that he would get to play. He was considered a little bit of a traitor by his housemates for going to see the Hufflepuff games and not the Slytherins. But at this point Tom was a black sheep to all in his house except for someone the Muggle-borns that would never openly support him, but had said that they appreciated his mother's efforts for trying to pass laws to keep them safe should the war reach England. 

~/*\~

The game was Slytherin against Hufflepuff. It was an intense match as the score was close. As the game went, Tom could see by his housemates actions that it was getting aggressive and the sportsmanlike conduct dwindled. They wanted to win and they did not care who they took out of the game. 

It was because of this that Edgar got to play and the whole time of it, Tom was watching carefully. He could not interfere in any way, but he could not take his eyes off Edgar. His friend took to the sky well. Tom had known that ever since he had tried to teach him some of the tricks that he used. 

Edgar dove down and up again with great speed, carrying the Quaffle under his arm. He zig-zagged and arched his way through the fray of bludgers and scored. He did this again as his teammates trusted him and would get him the ball. They were up now and Tom gripped the rails of the stadium as he could see the contempt on the other teams face. 2 faces particularly Rosier and Clarence. 

There were cries from the students on the Slytherin side. Yelling for something to be done about Edgar, for their team to stop joking around. Two green dressed chasers started to make moves to get closer to Edgar who weaved the best he could but they got on each side. He hardly felt the hand that was on his arm. Myrle was gripping hard knowing what was going to happen, or what was being attempted. 

Rosier and Clarence got closer to Edgar, who again tried to get out of their way by diving down lower. They leaned up against him and started ramming into his side. Edgars broom was shifting against the wind currents so there was not much room for him to maneuver. The ground was quickly approaching.

Come on… 

Tom held his breath. 

Come on….

‘You have to go up!’ He mentally screamed. 

Edgar pulled hard up against the broom; his wild brown hair was the only noticeable thing behind the larger boys that were blocking him. 

He did not hit the ground. 

He still had the ball. 

Tom was able to breathe again and he could hear Myrtle sniffle with relief. He looked over at her for a second and she screamed suddenly very loudly and sharply. 

He turned back and he could see Edgar hurling back towards the ground his broom was snapped in near half. As the bludger that must have smashed into his broom made another arch as a Slytherin hit it again. The ball slammed into Edgar’s side and he actually screamed much like a dying cat. 

The next few moments seemed to happen far too quickly, one of the teachers must have stopped his fall and there was the healer on the field assessing the damage and the game was put on time out. There were horrified faces on the Hufflepuff side but there were some nasty pleased faces on the Slytherin side. 

Myrtle was sobbing next to him and he put his arm carefully over her shoulder not knowing really how to comfort her when his own blood was boiling. She clung to him burying her face into his side. The sensation did very little to calm him. His magic was raging in him like a caged animal and he was surprised that Myrtle could not feel it, not feel the way in which his heart was beating quickly demanding that he fight. 

~/*\~

They waited outside of the curtains for Madam Hunterz to finish her assessment of Edgar. Myrtle was no longer crying nearly as hard but she was still clinging to Tom’s side. He was not doing a very good job of masking how he felt about the whole situation. 

It turned out that Edgar had fractured a couple of ribs from where the bludger hit, and one of the broken ones had sought to puncture his left lung. That was why Edgar was making horrible wheezing sounds as he laid in the hospital bed, passed out by both the potions and perhaps the pain of it. 

It could have been worse if someone did not slow the fall. 

But Tom did not care about that. It was as bad as he was willing to think about. That horrible strangled scream was going to give his nightmares more fuel than what they already had. He already dreamed of Grenlewald coming to kill them, now he had a sound effect for it. 

“It’s just awful.” Myrtle looked at Edgar as they were allowed to be with him while he slept if they were quiet. She held onto his large hand finally retreating away from Tom. 

He did not say anything, he did not have the will to.

“I know that you both care greatly for young Smith here, but if I could ask one of you a favor.” Madam Hunterz entered the curtained space again. “Smith will probably like to have his things that are in his locker at the pitch. If one of you would be so kind to collect his robes and school things from there I am sure he would appreciate it.”

Tom nodded he could get Edgar's things, it would help to be away from the scene. It would help to calm him. He wasn’t sure what he would do, but he knew that he wanted to hex the person that hit the bludger, even if he was unsure if Mittigen meant to hit Edgar or not. Rosier and Clarence had meant to cause harm, but part of him knew that it wouldn’t have mattered who it was, being rough in Quidditch was part of the Slytherin strategy. 

It left him just angry with no real place to put it. In the time that he had been away, it seemed that Slytherin had won the match. A few of his housemates were on the field with the players taking excitedly amongst themselves. Tom ignored it. The best that he could in favor of just collecting what he had come to collect. He picked up the last of Edgar's things, his wand was included in the small amount of items in the locker room. Edgar's wand was a pretty black one with golden etchings around the handle that was more round. The overall shape was almost tear dropped. He ran his fingers over it wondering what wood it was or the core before placing it with the rest of his things into a small bag. 

He was stuck behind some of his housemates in their need to get off the field. One of them looked over at him and smiled. Tom took several deep breaths.

Abraxas then looked back and Tom’s hand tightened on the bag that he was carrying.

“The reject Hufflepuff sending you to collect his things?” Avery stopped the group. 

Tom did not answer. 

“Ah not talking, are you? Nothing to say to that. Learned your place have you?” Mittigen smirked. 

“Maybe he likes collecting his boyfriend's things.” Avery continued and smiled largely. 

If he hexed them all with the spells that he wanted to, he was going to get expelled for sure. It was not worth it. 

“Maybe he likes being the serving one in the relationship, certainly is small enough for it.” Abraxas added in sweetly. “Definitely liked to be the one to find things out for me when we were forced to write to each other.” 

He clenched his fists, his breathing becoming shallow. 

‘Don't do it.’ He told himself, he wants to get you in trouble. ‘There are too many to contradict the story, anything you say will not be taken as truth.’

They laughed and he pushed past them keeping himself to the side of them so he would not have his back turned. There were a few Hufflepuffs that were probably hanging around in the stands making their way down towards the pass they were currently in. So they would see whatever it was that happened hopefully they could attest that he had tried to get out of this one. 

“Or maybe I like to treat people that are hurt and my friends with decency and get their things for them.” Tom said as calmly as he possibly could. “Not that you would know anything about treating people with decency Abraxas. You have always been demanding and rude to anyone that you thought was lower than you. Which by your inflated ego must be everyone.” 

Color showed on Abraxas’s pale face. 

“Right.” Abraxas stepped forward getting close to him as if him being taller was something that could intimidate him. “I am better than you, your just a stupid little half-blood. That's friends with a bunch of Mudbloods.

Tom froze at that word and Abraxas stepped closer to him. 

That word carved its way into his brain and his mother’s hate for the word burning in him like little coals. The way it was used to brand her. 

It was a foul word.

An evil word, spread by people like him. 

“That's right, your father was a Mudblood too, so that makes you half dirt. Why your mother is probably just as bad dating a werewolf.”

The words were staticing around him. It was like he was in the void. He could hear the words that the other was saying but they were hardly registering. His magic was leaking out of him and he could feel it. It was pouring from his core, much like that day, that horrible day. It crackled around him like storm clouds. And a few of the people around him smartly moved back. They knew what it was and Tom was hardly holding it back. 

But Abraxas was never a smart one. He kept talking as if Tom was not a threat to him like he could and would say whatever it was that he wanted. 

“I bet she wants to have more kids, that would mean your siblings are even lower than Mudbloods, it would make them little half breeds or perhaps little puppy dogs. Say what you want about our marriage system at least we don’t have sex with animals.” 

And that did it. It all just broke and Tom lunged forward and tackled Abraxas to the ground and easily overpowered him. He just started punching that horrible smug face. It took a few good hits for the other to realize that he was being hit and to try and get away from it. 

The stupid, pompous, evil, git. 

There was hitting, shoving, rolling on the ground, biting, kicking, clawing and hair-pulling. Tom landed another good hit on Abraxas face and there was the sound of something cracking which might have been Tom’s knuckle but it also could have been Abraxas’s nose.

~/*\~

The act of violence cost Slytherin 150 points and Tom would be in detentions every Friday night for the next 8 weeks. It added up to over 30 hours in detention. One would think that he would care about that. Care about the letters home and the whispers that were going to get worse about him. Even his nice calm personality that he put up for teachers was probably shattered beyond repair. 

But it didn’t. 

No it didn’t matter. 

Tom was sure that he would be hated at this point always so what did it matter? 

It was worth it, that is all that he could think.

Tom had broken his fist against Abraxas’s face, proving that Tom did not have to use magic to win his fights. It was barbaric to some that Tom had reverted to such medieval methods, but he didn’t care. It was worth it to see Abraxas flinch if Tom showed any signs of aggression. He wouldn’t ever say that word again. Tom promised that if he ever said it again he would resolve to using his magic and they would see who had the better blood when it was spilled all over the Quidditch pitch. Which caused most of his housemates to steer clear of him. 

Tom Granger is crazy was the consensus on both sides. 

Even people that perhaps loved the idea of him bringing Abraxas down a peg, knew that the way that he had acted was crazy. 

Slughorn had moved him to another dorm room. And had tried to mitigate the damage. But Tom didn’t think even his nice words and stupidity could repair the damage that Tom had done to Abraxas’s pride. Nor would anything that the man said would ever make Tom apologize. He had been silent through most of it all. Lectures from both his head of house and the headmaster about how he should know to act better. Just didn’t register. The rumor mill was terrible at the school and no one wanted to listen to him anyway. Not even the adults. It didn’t matter if Tom tried to clarify what happened. There were enough people to say that Abraxas had egged Tom on but they did not try to claim to know what was said. So it didn’t matter as the Slytherins gained up on him to the point where Tom didn’t try after the first cutting glance from the headmaster to correct any of it. 

He had been told that he should be aware of consequences, and think about things. He was Slytherin after all. But Tom did not again care. He was not expelled and he wasn’t going to be. That was all that he cared about. 

Let the rumors fly. 

He told his mother in a letter what happened and as long as she knew and believed him he did not care. Myrtle and Edgar still were as close to him as ever. Myrtle perhaps closer because she approved of the damage that he did to Abraxas’s face. It was 2 days for the cartilage to grow back correctly and he had fun bandages and metal holding it into place. He had looked very ugly. She demanded when she got a pensive, a memory of it. After he included them in on the truth of what happened. She then went out of her way to almost act as his PR manager and told the story more exaggerated each time, but nonetheless heroic. And slowly perception by day 5, it had gone from Tom being a monster that could cause all sorts of damage without a wand to Tom being a hero to all the Muggle-borns and Half-bloods. 

It was sort of weird and overwhelming… Because it seemed people wanted to be his friends for reasons that were outside of getting homework help from him. 

~/*\~

He spent his first few detentions with his head of house, but the rest were to be taken up by Professor Dumbledore as he was the deputy Headmaster and it was his job to try and lessen the load on the other staff members.

Tom would have rather had detentions with Wolfberry. 

He made his way up the stairs and to the larger office. He was not sure what he would be doing, but Slughorn had been having him clean out cauldrons as over the week they would get filthy and need to be scrubbed not only by magic, but by hand as the cleaning spells wouldn’t get everything out. At least this could possibly be better and not cramp his fingers. Even if talking with Slughorn as he did clean might have helped to repair some of the damage in their relationship. 

He knocked once and could hear the older man's voice from the other side. “Come in.” 

Dumbledore was looking over the daily profit among other newspapers that were scattered around his desk. He had out a color spelled quill and was making markings along articles. He looked up over moon-shaped spectacles at him. 

“Good evening Tomas , please have a seat.” 

He muttered a good evening as he sat down on the chair. It was a nicer wooden one it even had a pad. Tom didn’t want to be fooled though by the niceties. He did his best to put up his Occlumency barriers in case those blue eyes tried to look at more than just his face. 

They sat in silence as Dumbledore finished whatever it was that he had found so interesting in the paper and folded it up into a tiny square that he placed with the others. 

“Would you like some tea Tom.” 

“As long as there isn’t anything in it.” Tom answered carefully.

“Are you referring to me trying to poison you or are you referring to not wanting any sugar.” The old man asked, raising one of his gray eyebrows.

“Would you try to poison me sir.” Tom didn’t bat an eye. 

“No, I certainly would not.” He looked a little offended that Tom would suggest a thing. 

“And yet you have tried to look into my mind before.” Tom smiled a nice fake one. 

“Ah well that was under slightly different circumstances, I was not your teacher then.” 

“And that makes it alright?.” Tom held a little onto his knees. He really did not like this man nor did he like that he was pretending to be nice to him. 

Dumbledore had a look of you have got me there, but still conjured the tea tray from across the room and picked up the kettle, pouring himself a generous amount before doing the same for Tom. It had to be a trick or game of some kind. But he didn’t have the pieces yet to guess the play. 

“Your mother has been very busy.” Dumbledore changed the subject. “She has been working diligently to pass a new Muggle-born inclusion act. One that may just save the lives of many of the students that attend here.” 

“So?” Tom looked at him hard studying the curves by his mouth and the way that his eyes were, but it didn't give much away.

“It interests me that her son is now being called one of the greatest heroes in the school's history for breaking one Abraxas Malfoy’s nose, and injuring himself in the process. It has not escaped me that during the allegations that wound you in the very detentions that you find yourself in there was little said in your defense. Mostly you stayed quiet and did not argue with the punishment.” 

He sat a little forward, “what I really want to know is what really happened that day on the Quidditch pitch.” 

Tom tilted his head. “It wouldn’t have mattered what I had to say. Headmaster Dippet already had decided that I was guilty, and there were enough witnesses to make it so I was punished for the action. And that all being said I did break his nose.” 

“Ah but what brought it to that point matters.” Dumbledore looked at him knowingly. “I have kept a close eye on you since you came to this school. I was hopeful that you would wind up in my house, however that was not the case. But from what I have noted you let a lot of negative comments go. Perhaps a few pranks here and there, but whatever was said had to have been particularly bad to spark a violent reaction from you.” 

Tom did not want to look at him, for some reason he looked a little intimidating. He instead focused on the teacup in front of him. Pretending to be in thought. “It's a bit creepy that you watched me. One could take that out of context.” 

“That way of twisting words is probably why you are not in my house.” Dumbledore acknowledged. “But considering what happened that summer when I came for a visit, surely you can't blame me for being concerned.”

“You mean the time that you dismantled our wards and nearly gave my mother a heart attack.” Tom countered. 

Dumbledore ignored that comment it seemed and chose to move on. “I offered to help your mother with your possible outbursts then. And while you seemed to learn how to rain in the magical aspect. You certainly do give in to it on occasion. This is a good example. Whatever Abraxas said no matter how horrible, probably should not have caused you to snap and break his nose. And then proceed to threaten him after the fact with additional pain.” 

Tom smiled then a real smile. “And that is where we would disagree. He deserved it completely and I would gladly break his nose again.”

“You don’t feel bad for doing it at all.” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

“No.” Tom answered honestly. “I in fact wish that it had caused him more discomfort.” 

Those blue eyes bore into his and Tom could not tell if he was trying to look into his head or not, but it really didn’t matter to him. He kept his shields up. He had been reading and he felt confident in his ability. 

“I don’t think that you really mean that, you play well into both the hero and the villain but choose by how you think that the audience views you.” 

Tom frowned slightly. “No I really do not feel bad about it.”

“That much I can tell but I don’t think you care if you hurt him or not, or could have hurt him further. You are fine with the result and there was no need for more.”

Tom shrugged. 

“Has it always been that way? Are you not able to feel guilt?” 

Tom blinked, this was not exactly where he thought this conversation was going. And he chose not to answer that. 

“So perhaps you can but not really, is it muted around most?” 

“What are you trying to do diagnose me with something?” Tom felt a small spike of both anger and unease. Anger was easy, it was protective and blanketing. It scared people to leave him alone. 

“Not at the moment, but I could try.” Dumbledore brought up his teacup to his lips and took a long sip and Tom did not feel comfortable enough to pick his up. He looked over at the hourglass that was on the far table, it was only 30 minutes into this mess. He felt his uncomfortableness growing. 

“I don’t want to panic you Tomas that is not my intention.” 

He did a real good job of that. Maybe he could convince Slughorn to take back over his detentions. It might be a little soon though to ask the man for a favor. Maybe if he really acted like he was sorry. 

“I just want to help.” Dumbledore fixed him a look that showed that he was an aging man, that he was perhaps knowledgeable about things other than transfiguration. “I can not help if you do not let me.” 

“I don’t want your help.” Tom snapped, holding tightly to his own arms. 

“Most people that are in need of it rarely do.” The old man acknowledged. “But my door to you will be open regardless.” 

Tom didn’t want to believe him as they lapsed back into silence. Tom took a daring small sip of his drink and it tasted fine and smelt fine. “Sir is there anything that you wish me to do during these 3 hours”

He left ‘besides have tea with you, and you trying to get information out of me’ unsaid. 

“You should work on your schoolwork, I trust that you have that on you or something to read.” Dumbledore put his teacup back on the saucer and dipped his quill in the inkwell. It seemed he was going back to looking into the newspaper again.

What was he looking for?

“You aren’t going to have me clean anything.” Tom narrowed his eyes. “Or prepare any ingredients.” 

“Merlin no. Detentions are for reflection or for students to make up the work that they might be missing by their actions in the classroom. I will not use it for manual labor that would be a waste of both our times. As while I am certain that you could do something that I asked of you, do you really think that someone like Lestrange would be capable of something like that? I would be doing it all over.” 

There was a twinkling in the old man's eyes. And even if he did not really like Dumbledore that was pretty strong logic. 

“So I just get to read for my enjoyment?” Tom pressed because there had to be tricks to this. “What sort of punishment is that.” 

“I don’t particularly think that you should have been punished past the taking of the points and perhaps a few detentions. However, Mr. Malfoy is not in any of the detentions for his role that he played. So please take the remaining Friday nights as a study hour.” 

He went back to his work and Tom pulled out a fantasy book that he had gotten from a used Muggle bookstore. It was a pretty beat up copy, and he had not paid much for it. But he figured that since he had read most of the other books that his mother owned that he would read something new. If it was bad he could always bring it back after a few repario charms so that he could use the exchange of it to get a discount on the next purchase. 

He glanced back at Dumbledore noting that he was looking at a paper that was in a different language now. He could ask, but he had a feeling that it was better that things went this way. Where it was silent on his end and the old man busied himself with other things that did not involve Tom and his personal life. 

~/*\~

The book was about Enlana, a young girl, a light elf, that's city was attacked by humans that had sought the key to immortality and divine power. They stole her sister and Enlana fled to the countryside and stumbles upon the remains of a human village that has been destroyed by the clashing. She there finds a human infant. She is but a girl herself and she takes it upon herself to raise the child. 

Tom would have read further than the first 3 chapters but he was tapped lightly and reminded that he could leave; he did that quickly. 

The next 2 detentions became more of the same. Dumbledore tried to talk to him and when that failed they would go about their separate reading. If Tom had homework he did that first and then would move on to his book. Tom did his best not to think about what it was that Dumbledore was reading in those sessions because asking that man anything would be about as pleasant as pulling off his fingernails and as long as he had his books for entertainment there was not much else that he needed. 

Elana raised the child the best that she could, but as she never aged people or humans that she was trying to blend in with started to notice that she was different. Her son did as well. It was almost painful some of the scenes of them arguing as he got older and wanted to protect her, but she wanted to do that for him as well. He even thought that they should split up or that she should claim to be his sister as they looked the same age. As he got even older he even suggested that she pretend to be his wife. He normally did not read things like this but there were a lot of fights that involved a unique magic system, guns, and weird mechanical creatures, that were sprinkled in with the emotional turmoil for the character to be very compelling. Enough that he did not want to put it down at certain points but knew that detentions would have been boring without the book to keep him occupied. 

~/*\~

“Only 1 more of these sessions after this one.” Dumbledore bid him to enter his office.

Tom nodded. He would be glad when these were over he could read in his room instead. He noticed a page in front of Dumbledore that was marked up. This one he could read. Dumbledore noticed his gaze. 

“I read the papers for clues on what Grindelwald's forces are up to. There are hints of his activities even if the papers and such do not want to acknowledge him. He has been very active in Germany, there are ways to use the Muggle soon to be war to cover his tracks.” 

“Are you reading about him just to know or are you planning on fighting him.” Tom asked honestly. He had heard that Dumbledore was considered one of the best duelists that there ever was to exist and if anyone could take out someone that was as powerful as Grindelwald was supposed to be it would probably be the man in front of him. 

“I think that it is a little of both. No matter how I do not wish it. I know that if I was to try to talk him out of whatever it is that he thinks he can accomplish, it will not work. We might have been close at one point but he is too far gone to listen to even a once very close friend.”

“You know him?” Tom didn’t bother to hide his shock.

“Yes long ago when the things he is currently doing were just ideas out on paper. He was brilliant, obsessive, but brilliant and I found in him someone that could match me in most things. Oh, I had a few scruples but I assured my conscience with empty words. Did I know, in my heart of hearts, what Gellert Grindelwald was back then, I think I did, but I closed my eyes. I can no longer afford that luxury. He has taken musings and has turned it to fuel for his delusional idea that Wizards can rule over Muggles."

Tom tilted his head thinking about it. “How does killing Muggle-borns fit into this?” 

“No idea.” Dumbledore sighed. “One would think that in his search for magical artifacts that any sane parts of him has left him. But if I had to take a guess they are just part of his plan to gain power by painting them as scapegoats and a danger. Much like this Hitler is doing for the Jewish people.” 

He pushed a paper toward Tom and he could see the Muggle print with trains packed way too full with people, dirty people, that looked fearful and down trot. It was one thing to hear it on the radio and another to see it in a picture. The old man did not miss his discomfort. 

“Yes, war is an ugly thing and this is what is happening in Germany, I am not sure that it is going to turn into anything but a slaughter of people. I think that Gellert is counting on that. The more fear there is the more people that will flock to him.”

“So how are you going to stop it?” Tom gripped at his legs rubbing sweaty palms on them. 

“At the moment Tomas, I will be very honest with you, I am not sure.” Dumbledore was looking again a bit older, almost more fragile somehow and Tom did not think that it was acting. “I might not like what he is, what he has become, but I do not know if I can actually look him in the face and attack him. Even now there is still a part of me that cares for him. But I think that most people are counting on my ability to do so.”

“That's why you are openly supporting my mother and her friend’s efforts.”

“It's one of the reasons.” The man stood so that he could pour himself something and mix it into his tea, Tom was pretty sure that it was not sugar. 

“But I also deeply believe what she is doing, is good and right. I will do anything to protect the students here. I do not wish to send them home to a torn up Britain or countryside.” 

“If you wouldn’t mind professor I would really like a cup of tea.” Tom said softly.

“I shall make you one.” Was the kind reply. 

~/*\~ 

The last of his detentions was almost over when Tom took a deep breath he had been thinking about doing this for over a week, as the last conversation that he had with Dumbledore was lingering and would not leave him. 

“Sir.” 

The old man put down his quill that he had been grading with. 

“You asked me at the start of this what really happened on the Quidditch pitch…”

The man nodded. “I would still like to know, but I am not going to force it out of you.” 

Tom shrugged. “What happened was the usual but I think it impacted me more this time around because they called…” He took a deep breath. “They called Edgar a Mudblood and then made sure to comment that I was half dirt because of my father.” 

Tom was honest for the first time with someone that was not his mother. He explained how he had learned of that word, how much he hated it. How much he hated the way that Purebloods acted. How he had once been friends with Abraxas like Dumbledore was friends with Grindelwald and how it lingered inside the betrayal of suddenly becoming worthless in another person’s eyes.

And Dumbledore was very kind and offered to lead Tom some of the books that while Muggle in nature might help with learning ways to let it go. He showed great concern that Tom felt angry and at war all the time. It was comforting. Because Dumbledore admitted that he had been very angry in his childhood, after the imprisonment of his father, the death of his mother, and then the death of his sister had all effected him harshly. Tom never thought any other adult besides his mother could be understanding. And even if it could hurt him telling someone one some of the things, excluding the incident that happened over the summer, it was relieving. It was relieving to hear that someone would look out for the kids in the halls that were being bullied. It was reliving that someone would do something. That it was not just him that had to fight it.

And Tom by the end of the session found hit very hard to hate Dumbledore. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione read over the letter that she had received from the Ministry. A second and then a third time. The bill had been denied. 

It had been denied. 

She wanted to rip up the pleasant-sounding words that were on the slip of paper in front of her that lead to nothing but false hope and a pretty way of saying at the end the equivalent of now Bugger off and do other things, as you are not a politician. 

She would not stand for this. She picked up the quill there had to be a way to repeal the bill or a way to fix the wording so that it seemed more reasonable. She sent letters to everyone that she knew that could possibly help including one Albus Dumbledore to see if he could do more than say that he was in support of the ideas in the bill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I said no more 8,000+ word chapters but here we are. 
> 
> (。・_・。)
> 
> So Hope that you all liked the chat with Dumbles. He is an annoying character to write that I will admit. I much prefer Tom. The next chapter should be real fun at least for me. Not every day I get to write good verbal spare and fights that actually involve spell work. 
> 
> `````````````````````````````````````````Spoilers idk (I tagged it)`````````````````````````````````````````  
> I will say this one more time, not because I am upset or anything, just because I feel that a lot of people are asking it. And I have to give a straight forward answer to it. Please… I never miss tag things. I don’t plan on writing perhaps the typical ‘romance’ that people come to these things for. (I know there are those people that want kisses and a couple of 'other things' ) I have hinted that feelings hopefully changed, but Tom is a bit of a rebel and seems to have a bit of a mind of his own. His love/ care is a bit more obsessive / controlling than anything. There are at least 7 more chapters planned with the epilogue. Lots of in storytime. Things shall happen a lot of things really. But Tom is also 12... currently... Thank you…


	21. Part XXl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, it is that time again. A new chapter has been created, edited by someone that struggles with the grammar world, and now is to be posted. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Hermione has spent the past months in and out of the Ministry. She was in and out of meetings and writing hundreds of letters. Between that and pitching for the different groups to gain support she had little time to do anything but work. She neglected some things that perhaps she shouldn’t have. It put a slight strain on her relationship with Oswin. She knew that he would never say anything bad about it. He could understand to an extent. But him telling her to try and relax was not that helpful. It reminded her a bit of when Harry or Ron would tell her that her idea of helping house elves was all washed up, that she was crazy to even try. It was not the time for these sorts of pushes, was what some people said. 

Hermione knew that she had always been against the norm, that she was never for decorum unless it was absolutely necessary. She knew that her ideas were controversial at best for this age and time. But she could not help herself. There were going to be hundreds of changes by her affecting the timeline anyways so there was no point in not going the extra mile and not save hundreds of children's lives. 

She dressed well for tonight, for it was another gala like party. They were gaining momentum and Tom would be home again for the Holidays soon. She would rest then. This was the time to secure the rest of the funding. Sway people. If this one failed they would have to dial it back a lot more. Things that would be all but pretty words on paper that did not truly mean anything. 

She could propose it in two smaller bills. It had been Agusta’s idea. Not terrible but not exactly what she was hoping for. Still, she would try, if it was any other time of the month Oswin would have been able to go. She didn’t know if it was scheduled purposely like that or not. Some had it in their heads that her relationship looked poorly on the cause. She would make it up to him… Somehow. They would have another one of their dates soon enough. 

She took the flue to the large gallery hall. There were a lot of people already there. Clambering over themselves to make good impressions, buy, and look at the many paintings. There was a dance floor where music was being played. The soft kind that encouraged only the most traditional of dancing. There were those that were already on the floor. 

Hermione made her way to where the drinks were being served. She made small talk with some of the other guests and then made sure to propose some well-timed suggestions about morals to select individuals. 

It wasn’t their job as Wizards and Witches to take care of all of the world, but she couldn't help but continue to press that the children of muggles that had magic were still Witches and Wizards and as such should be protected. Many did not want to protect the muggle aspect even if they did feel bad for those born to them. It was a pureblood way of thinking and even some Half-bloods that were delusional or perhaps the times had trained them what they were supposed to think. How they were supposed to behave and because it was so ingrained in them they could not see anything wrong with what they were saying. 

Things, like they are smart for a Half-blood or a Mudblood, would seem like things that should not be stated in polite company but it was. There were still those undecided about the bill that were trying their best to wrap their head around how hard it must have been to transition to the magical world. Somewhere under the impression that perhaps it would have been better if they never were introduced. 

She talked so long that she needed a break. She retreated among the art pieces, to an area that was secluded. She sat at one of the benches and rubbed at her ankles as they were sore and she hated the shoes that she was wearing. She could not wait till times were better and it would be socially acceptable to wear a suit instead. 

She watched the paintings around her. There was one that held a nymph, she moved behind the trees on the canvas. She peered from her hiding places, her long blond hair glittered in the moonlight setting. Pale fingers parted branches and vines seemed to grow out of her arms and hands. She ducked down again as she noticed watchful eyes.

“A lovely painting is it not?” A familiar voice spoke to her from the other side of the room. She had not thought that he would be here. Albus Dumbledore wore rich purple robes that reminded her much of some of the more extravagant robes that he would wear when he was headmaster at the welcoming feasts. They billowed around him as he moved forward.

“It is.” She put her tired legs down so that she looked more presentable on the bench. He made his move and sat at the very edge of it, giving them both a considerable amount of space.

“I have always found myself drawn to paints that were more of the natural world than those of people and crowded places.” Dumbledore continued. 

“Hogwarts is full of paintings according to Tomas, most of them portraits.” Hemione offered. “I suspect the more quiet ones would be nice, enough children and other people moving around without the need for the paintings to talk and be loud as well.” 

Dumbledore smiled slightly. “I rather like the noise of the student body though, lets the place feel alive. However, there are things that even I wish that I never overheard crowds of students saying.” 

“I would imagine so.” Hermione shared a small knowing smile. 

“You will be happy to know that Tomas is no longer in detention and is once again free on Friday nights to go about with his friends to both explore and play pranks. Not that anyone can directly prove that some of the incidents are related to him.” Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling slightly. 

“He has mentioned as much, not about the pranks mind you. But I suppose that is better than him ending the trouble as he calls it by breaking a child's nose.” 

“Ah yes, but I think that he might have been slightly justified in his reasoning to do so. Sometimes acts such as his can convince others not to make the same mistakes, not that I am endorsing violence.” 

“Of course not.” Hermione shifted slightly so she could look more at his facial expressions. She did not know what games the man was playing or if he really was playing at anything. Call her paranoid but she did not like people thinking that they could look into her head. 

“There are other reasons that I chose to search you out.” 

There it was. She put up her strongest walls and suitably took in a deep breath letting it out quietly. 

“I have concern for you and your son.” Dumbledore looked at her intensely and while she did not feel any pushes on her mind, she did not like that gaze. It spoke of careful calculation, mixed with sincerity that she was not sure if it was genuine or not. She had danced this dance so many times that she was finding she often looked for the worst in a person and then let them surprise her if possible. 

“Grendlewald at the moment is looking for something. He has been attacking particular people, but once he has what he needs, I think that he will be sending his followers out to take care of people that are of interest.”

“Is this a warning that I am a possible person of interest.” Hermione knew that she would be. She knew that with certainty by the way that Tom was worried about it. Tom was far too bright and made decent calls when it came to long term planning and judging people’s character. It would be her luck that he was again right about something else. 

“I think that you will make the list. Yes. I knew him once and he might not think of you as a threat because he has a tendency to underestimate people that do not fit who he thinks are truly competent and capable. It is of note that your work is causing ripples, and whether it is enough to cause a wave in his small pond I am not certain.”

“But it is enough for you to be concerned about me?” She tried to see what was behind those words. Was he trying to offer her a helping hand again to use it against her later or was this a real warning? It didn’t matter. “I appreciate that concern, but I will not stop in my mission nor my goals. I trust that at Hogwarts that Tom will be safe enough and in my own ability to protect him, sure there will be those that come after us. Godric knows that I have done it before.” 

“I have no reason to believe that you will not do an admirable job of this. When we met a few summers ago, I knew there was little that could stand against such determination. Keep in mind though, that even the strongest do require help every once and a while. No, what I am saying is that I am concerned what is to happen if this bill is not to pass before Gellert gets a hold of the things that he seeks.”

The Deathly Hollows her mind supplied. He was going after wand makers or any source of information that he could find on them. She did not let it show on her face though that she knew what the madman was looking for. Dumbledore was already suspicious of her or at least wary of her. And she was sure that he had tried to get information out of Tom. 

“Is that your way of saying that you plan on playing a more active role in helping it to be passed. Many of your students would surely benefit from the warding of their homes and a better introduction to the wizarding world well before they are sent to school.”

“I am in agreement with you, on all of the subsections of your bill. But for now the safety of my students comes first. What we both wish for better introduction can wait, if not now a couple of years. The idea to give safe homes to Muggle-born students during the war to come, is and should be the top priority.” 

Hermione nodded a challenging look crossed her face. “Then you will have to do more than just say that you agree with it.”

“Yes. I have started by attending the meetings that I can, and writing those that I may be able to sway to the course. My suggestion still stands with lessening the bill so that it is solely about protection. My ability to convince a few of the other Pureblood houses would be simpler if they thought they were protecting those that they viewed weaker than them.

“God-like complexes.” Hermione muttered. Knowing full well that it made Purebloods that might have had good intentions feel like they really had done something wonderful if they were to hand over something as simple as a few galleons towards a problem to make themselves feel better, or those that thought the weak should be ruled and saved by the strong. 

“Indeed. But sometimes one has to use others' weaknesses such as that one against them.” Dumbledore looked away from her and back towards the Nymph that had come to sit by the pool of water, she fixed her hair. “Let them think that they have won or that they are getting something more out of it than they actually are and they can be of use to the overall goal.” 

She hated that the old man was right.

~/*\~

Her friends and her revised the bill and put it together for another go at the voting. It was now the protection of Muggle-borns' initiative. And it was a bit more popular as it depicted Muggle-borns as pitiable. Hermione did not like taking that stance not campaigning with it. She did not believe that they were people that needed to be saved because they were not as strong as real witches and wizards. She made sure that others thought that was the reason to vote for it. But she never directly gave them the conformation of that was what she was going for. 

She true to her word took a break for Tom’s winter visit. He busied himself with an extra credit project and they did not get to spend as much time together as Hermione would have liked. At least the holiday provided her some time to spend with Oswin when Tom was far too busy reading.

His birthday was when she had practically dragged him to spend time with her. She took him to see a film in London and Tom was a bit more receptive to being outside of the house after that. ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’ was playing and Tom took a liking to the character and his charm and be it controversial, but overall good motives. She later gifted him with a book or two that continued the story told very differently than the screen adaptation. 

~/*\~

The next few months were rough with the Soviets siding with Germany for the time being. The Muggle world was in a state of fear and slight caus. It was so bad in fact that Hermione due to her growing unease about the war, and Grindelwald's influence starting to affect both the Soviet run regions and in bits of France, she told Tom that she would not be allowing him to travel home for the summer by Train. 

It had not gone over well as Tom did not want to leave his friends alone on the long train ride. He didn’t think that it would be safe for them either and wanted to know why she would be alright with letting them go on it, but picking him up. 

She had agreed then to take his friends home as well if their parents would approve of the measure.She would put up her own damn wards around their homes if she had to. The bill was stalled again as there were pressing matters of deciding how to respond to the active recruitment by Grindelwald's forces, and the stance that they wanted to take concerning him. 

~/*\~

Tom hunched over his Charms book. His left hand-scribbled as fast as he would with a Muggle pen notes out of it to use later in his essay. Next to him was Edgar and across from him was Myrtle. They were crouched and leaning in their small corner of the world. The 3rd floor under the round glass window. Outside it was softly raining. It was finals and there was a lot of studying to be done. 

“I have been thinking.” Myrtle looked up from her charms book. 

“A dangerous pastime.” Tom met her look.

“Yes sure maybe for those that are plotting things.” Myrtle smiled kindly at him. Moving so that her book was closer to her chest as she kicked her legs a little into the side of the stone sill. Edgar now had stopped reading his book and was paying complete attention as he probably felt the slight vibrations. 

“I do not plot. Tom defended.

“You do and it shows on your face. I can always tell when you are about to suggest a prank or a way to get yourself out of whatever trouble that you are in.” Myrtle disagreed. 

“I mean you do frown a lot when you are plotting something.” Edgar agreed with Myrtle, “I can almost feel your magic in the air too.”

Tom sighed just wanting to go back to studying. He needed to go over his Magical History next; it was rather annoying the amount of chapters he needed to review. “What were you thinking about?”

“I was thinking, all these people that are for Grindelwald keep calling people like Edgar and I Mudbloods. Why is that such a bad connotation.”

“Because they are saying that we’re less than dirt.” Edgar raised an eyebrow.

“Well yes, but we're letting them define that word as that. Words can change meaning or have multiple meanings if enough people stand behind it.” Myrtle continued. 

“Your point is?” Tom was not a fan of that word, he would never be a fan of that word.

“Well Mud or soil is really important, essentially all life depends on soil and there can not be soil without life. It evolved together.” She got a very far off look on her face. “Soils like the foundation of energy flows and everything that grows plant-based springs up from it. It's full of minerals that without it animals and fungi would die. It's balancing and encompassing.”

She put her book down so that she could hold onto her own arms. “If the theory is true that Muggle-borns aren’t descended from Squibs. Then we are the future of magic springing up like new saplings from the soil. Maybe I shouldn’t be ashamed of the fact that my blood is rich and full of magic that roots from something else. They can only use that word to hurt me if I let them.”  
She stared at Tom in a knowing way because he had often told her not to cry and let them know that their words hurt because then they would keep doing it.

She smiled brightly then. “I have been working on creating little pins that show a plant growing from a hand. I’m not very good at art but I think that I would like to spread that type of message instead of all the hate that there is to go around. Make my own pamphlets you know to counter the bad ones that Grednelwald’s handing out or having people send to others to distribute more hate.” 

Tom didn’t know what to say to that and luckily he did not have to say anything as Edgar summed it up rather nicely. 

“I’ll help pass out the pins once you're done designing them.” 

~/*\~

It might have been Myrtle's idea of raising morals for Muggle-borns and Half-bloods, but it might have just been a sign that he was going crazy and soft, that Tom held study sessions for finals. He did his best to be patient and overly nice to everyone that was involved. Which for him was a very challenging task. Tom really did not do well with people that couldn’t keep up with him, but he could act it. He could act like he cared if they all passed or not. He let them bug him with questions, even helped a few of the first years that had joined late.

The first night when he was helping out with charms there had only been 8 people but by his second session on Magical History, there had been 20. All of them from different houses, all of them crammed into a small section of the library that allowed for talking. Tom won them all over with his sarcastic renditions of the chapters that he summarized and helped to answer some of the questions that others might have had in regard to the subject. 

There was a strange unity to be found in the need to find answers and not fail. Tom knew most things but having people willing to try and find the few things that he didn’t know was very… well, nice. As strange as it was, for someone that hated most people. He found he could be quite good at leading them if they listened to him that was. And he was sure after most of them passed their tests in the following days that they would be even more inclined to listen to him. Students and children that were around his age were a lot easier to sway than adults that came into the shop. 

“You alright?” Edgar handed him a small cup of water.

“I’m losing my voice.” Tom croaked, taking the glass of water that was offered to him and downing it. 

“An improvement.” Myrtle elbowed him smiling. 

“I don’t think I have ever heard you talk so much.” Edgar smiled slightly, taking the glass back. “It’s your body telling you that you should rest it.” 

“By that logic my face is telling me to stop smiling as well. It hurts.” Tom crinkled his nose. He had been forcing himself to look more approachable as apparently his normal frowning face made people scared to approach him as they thought he was in a bad mood. 

“But you're so cute when you smile.” Myrtle made a small grab at his face and he shoved her hands away a little too tired to deal with that sort of attention. 

“I am not cute, boys are not cute.” Tom argued. 

Edgar shrugged. “My mom calls me cute.” 

Leave it to Edgar to think that as a compliment worthy of throwing off Tom’s argument for not liking to be called that. 

“That is because you are as well Eddy.” Myrtle attacked him instead with a side hug. “Girls call boys they like cute. It's part of our way of telling you that you look nice.” 

“I don't really care if I look nice.” Tom mumbled. 

“And so in that regard, you are cute without trying.” Myrtle sighed as if he was not getting something. “I have to admit that I am jealous.”

“Jealous?” Tom blinked. 

“Well yes, you are going to grow up to be handsome Granger, mark my words all the girls are going to go for you and you are not going to even have to try. If I want to be considered pretty in the future I am going to have to put a lot of effort in.” She sighed a bit dramatically. 

“Doesn't half the school find Tom to be slightly scary even if he can be nice?” Edgar shook his head. 

“Well yes but I think that can be an allure for some people. They are going to want to tame his bad boy heart and be the one that he gives real smiles to besides his polite ones.”

Godric bless his soul, and Slytherin his mind as he had to deal with this. His face though was heating besides himself. He was not a ‘bad boy.’ 

“Great.” Tom was going to have to steel himself around next valentine's day then. Merlin knew that he did not like that holiday already, but if girls were going to act strangely around him it would make it all the more horrible. 

~/*\~

Finals went about as well as he expected. He received all O’s this time around and Myrtle was close with her 5 O’s and 2 A's. Edgar was just glad that he got mostly A’s and a few poors. 

“I am never going to need a history of magic.” Edgar said as they made their way down the path and towards Hogsmeade. “Who is going to stop me on the street and demand I tell them in detail about the great Goblin Wars of 1813.”

“Binns if he sees you.” Myrtle laughed. 

Tom smirked. “I could just see how you or someone else would react if you want.” 

Edgar shook his head, “No I think that I am fine without being embarrassed further for the day.” 

The older students that could Apparate were making their way down into the Village as well. They were loudly talking about graduation ceremonies and future plans. Tom’s mother stood up the path from them waiting in nice blue robes. Myrtle gave her an excited wave back and forward before rushing off to talk to her about no doubt the latest news on the protection bill. With luck, it would be approved next week. 

~/*\~

The bill passed, be it with a narrow margin, but it passed nonetheless. Dumbledore had been quite pleased and expressed it as much in a letter then came the day after. He had pulled a lot of favors in to allow for it to happen, ones he might not be able to call in for a little while. 

It seemed that the Ministry had finally decided to do its job as Hermione had called it and protect its citizens. Godric knew that Britain had started placing mines on her borders and had already started a few bombing raids, one of them in Norway. As of now, Britain had received its last warning and the German’s threatened to retaliate. It had been why she had pressed so hard to make sure that she placed wards onto Myrtle’s and Edgar’s homes. She would have placed them there even if their parents had not wanted them. She had also made the children portkeys for emergencies, they would help them to get to safety quickly. It would take them to her lands and she made sure that they knew how to use it before she left.

Hermione could finally breathe when it came to the need to be in and out of the Ministry. And breathe she did. Not completely as she was listening to the radio each and every night, but she did remember to breathe more often. Tom had started listening too. 

“They are marching on France.” Tom shook his head as they turned off the news for the night. 

“Yes.” Hermione said gravely knowing what was to come, the slaughter of so many British troops and then the bombings. She could not picture her Tom, her little tom of 13 curled in a bomb shelter with all the other children and frightened woman. 

“Were going to war aren’t we.” It was not fazed as a question but stated as a fact. 

“We are.” She nodded. 

“It's going to be as bad as the first one.” Tom started to pet it, be it a little harder Paws that was laying very happily across his lap. Hermione had no doubt that if Shani was not sleeping upstairs in her basket that she would have been jealous of the scene. Hermione did not have to speak snake to know that much. “Professor Dumbledore told me a little about the first one, and that was before Muggles advanced their planes and guns.” 

Hermione could understand his concern, and he didn’t even know about the weapon that was to come, the better bombs. The type that could kill millions in seconds and America would drop two of them. 

“It probably will be.” She did not look at him. She looked more toward their field outside that had the grass growing tall again, where the wind was bending the blades. She watched them bend and thought about how peaceful it was where they were. They lived in a small bubble where nothing seemed out of sorts. But she knew there were people running from bullets out there, there were people dying, and there were those hiding and praying. 

She could see the castle in crumbled bits and Ginny sobbing next to her over her brother, Harry holding onto her. She could see the blankets and tarps never ending with bodies being covered, waiting to be taken somewhere to finally rest. 

And she was at the Burrow with the reeds that shook in the wind, where things made sense but empty at the same time. Where it was once burned by fire and spells, the place had regrown and the marks had vanished. 

“Were safe here. Right?” Tom brought her back out of her thoughts.

“Of course, I picked this place for a reason.” 

He gave her a thoughtful look at that but did not say anything else. 

~/*\~

Tom looked over some of his options for reading. Every time that he got a little older, learned a little more, there were shelves that were in their personal library that became unwarded. His mother’s books that were possibly dangerous were under thick wards and there was no way in which to touch them. There were unmarked books that lined the few selves. This one though was thicker and it stood out to him. It looked much like the small photo album that his mother kept down in the living room on the small shelf under the side table. 

He wondered what exactly made that something that had to be protected and hidden from him. There were also books that seemed harmless by their titles on the back of books that looked colorful, in comparison to the others. They did not seem to be magical at all. 

He narrowed his eyes feeling against the hum. It was not passable, like a little bubble that stopped his hands against it. He could feel it and the almost current that ran through it, but there was no pain from it. He reached forward with his magic just to see what would happen, and he felt a small shock almost as if he had dragged his feet against the carpet and touched the doorknob. Noting this he pushed a little harder just to see what would happen.

The static feeling returned and the shock was a little harder. The barrier though he felt it shift, bend a little under the pressure. He doubted that he could break it currently but it could be possible in the near future. He out of curiosity more than anything wrote down the titles of the ones that he could manage to see. Wondering if the titles were similar to the Hobbit book or the Series of Unfortunate events that Myrtle told him that she had never heard of and for some reason, he could not find on his shelf anymore even though he swore on everything that his mother had read him a few books that were by that title. 

~/*\~

Hermione stood across from Tom. 

“Tom I would like you to try some of the spells you leaned against me.” They were in their backyard in the nicely trimmed portion that allowed for them to practice. “Just like when you fired them at my shield. This time I will be moving, and countering you with spells of my own.” 

Tom raised his wand seeming to breathe a few times in and out. “Okay.” 

“Beguin.” She threw forward a stinging hex. 

Tom blocked it with a just as quick “Protego.” The red light hit nothing but the sparkling shield. 

She smiled slightly. “Expelliarmus.” 

Tom turned from it, pivoting like she taught him. “Rictusempra.” 

Easy to counter, she slapped the red spell from the air with a wave of her wand, bringing forth a small jet of water that soaked Tom as he tried a leg locking curse. 

She hit him with a Glacius then and his feet froze nicely to the ground, the wet clothes giving it slightly more of a chill. She had not put much will into it, so it wouldn’t be giving him a front bite. 

He threw a few hexes her way that might have done something if he was not panicky trying to shoot them at her as she got closer to him and trying to cast a warming spell to do with the ice. His reactions were not bad. Well-timed, but he was not moving very much. Standing near still relying on his shields. Enemies would shoot things at him that were far more painful. 

She thawed him out.

“Again.” She told him swiftly. “Try to move a bit more, this is a dance of spells. You can not afford to stand still.” 

Tom started this time attacking with a quick stinging hex, that he followed up with when she blocked it with a Stupidfy and then a quick Flipendo. He was taking a more offensive strat this time it seemed, trying to make her have to stay on the defense. 

She waited for an opening, a hesitation in his spells and then sent him flying backward. To Tom’s credit he got up nearly instantly after the send back and as she paused he shot at her from his place on the ground. She felt her tongue get heavy in her mouth. 

The Lang lock curse. 

Making her tongue stick so she could not cast vocally. Smart. She was impressed. 

She waved her hand and thought about the way to fix that. Forcing her magic to take effect. Tom by that time had hit her with a Leg locking jinx. She now being able to speak, sent him flying back again as she worked on getting her legs sorted again. 

She then cast Petrificus Tortalis, before he could get up. Ending again the round. 

She freed him seconds after she cast it, knowing that it was a horrible spell. A very strong defensive one, but one that she never would want to be forced into for long periods of time. She had been forced to lay on the floor once before, she did not want a repeat performance. She felt even worse now that she thought about it, as she had left Neville in the common room like that for possibly hours her first year.

They had 3 more duals, Tom getting more mobile with each one and a little bolder. It seemed like his best way to protect himself was to cast spells so quickly and repeatedly that no one would be able to stop all the relentless spells crashing into them or their shields. If he knew more potent spells. Ones that were meant to cause harm or lasting damage. Hermione had no doubt that the person that he was attacking would be dead. She did not know much about how Voldemort had dueling in his lifetime, but she had a feeling that it was similar. All that someone like Voldemort would have to do is overwhelm them with harsh and deadly spells. One could not shield against a killing curse, and one could not dodge if they were hit with anything that would immobilize them before it. 

She noted that even when she wanted to call it a day, that Tom went about practicing she had a feeling that it might have been because he did not like losing. 

~/*\~

~Shani~ Tom hissed. 

The long snake curled around his feet. ~Hatchling~ She hissed back almost lovingly, he could hear the fondness in her tone.

~I need you to do something for me.~ He stroked her large head. 

~Anything.~ She hissed back leaning into his touch.

~I need you to catch me a mouse, it needs to be alive.~ He instructed her. ~It will be no use to me dead.~ 

~Of course.~ she hissed back. ~I will catch my little one food.~

~It isn’t for food. I have been looking into spells and other magic. I need a test subject.~ He looked around the yard. His mother had gone into the house and there was no one that was out there, nor could hear what he was asking. But it still bothered him slightly knowing that his mother probably wouldn’t approve of his small experiment. 

~Shani understands~ She let out a low hiss lowering herself into the grass.~It might have a broken tail though~ She called back as if it was an afterthought. 

Tom turned the practice wand over in his hands a few times while he waited for her. It would be best to try these spells to see if he could do them. He would never want to cast them on a human being, but there might come a time that he needed to be able to cast them. 

Besides it was only a mouse…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a little longer than usual because there has been a surge of panic concerning the virus that shall not be named. I had to stock up on a few things and return to my hovel and accept that I will be out of work for the foreseeable future. I hope that all of you are staying safe out there! 
> 
> Dawn


	22. Part XXII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHHAHAHHA! laughs hysterically this chapter 10,000 words of bliss. 
> 
> Praise the sun!
> 
> ＼(▽￣＼(￣▽￣)／￣▽)／

The summer progressed with training, potion-making, and Tom checking in on his friends. Myrtle had sent him copies of her idea of uplifting messages. Tom had revised them and sent some of them back to her. His mother was out on another date with Oswin and Tom was left at home with Whimsy. Not that he really felt like he needed to be watched; he was 13 and quite capable of handling himself. But being alone gave him an opportunity to practice his more controversial magic. 

Shani brought him another mouse. 

~This one’s tail isn’t broken~ She hissed only losing her grip slightly as the mouse thrashed. She was getting better at this. 

Tom stunned it and let the large snake drop it from her jaws. 

~I could catch you larger prey.~ She coiled around him tightening the circle she made at his feet as he crouched down next to the small animal. Its eyes were large and it’s breathing was harsh. He knew if Shani brought him a rabbit it would have had a heart attack by now. The mouse was probably on its way there. 

~It’s better it's smaller.~ He hissed back at her. It was easier to hide what he was doing when the mouse was small enough to be nearly swallowed up by the tall grass. If someone was not directly next to him, he doubted that they would even see it.

Animals had limited brain function, but they could be influenced and Tom had been trying to not only make the mice listen to him, but also to see their limited capability of memories. It had been in the back of the Occlumency books. If he could see other memories it would be useful. They were going to be at war, and if anyone was to attack them, Tom wanted to know why. It also came with the ability of knowing if someone was for sure lying, without going deep into their heads, just the surface would be enough. A quick look into their eyes. But so far the best that he could do was enter the mind of the mouse. Leaving was another thing, he didn’t mean to but it seemed to tear something, the mouse would foam at the mouth. He then would practice a few other spells and put the thing out of its misery. 

Tom didn’t like torturing things. He did not feel bad for doing what he was, but that did not mean that he wanted the small thing to suffer needlessly. This time he managed to leave the mouse’s head without the foam or blood at the nose. He unstunned it to see if it was still capable of a full range of motions. It twitched and seemed to regain itself and stood. 

~Does that mean you are doing better Hatchling~ Shani raised herself up by his ear. 

~Possibly.~ There were a lot of things to consider, before he moved the trials to something else. The best thing to use it on when he did feel more comfortable would be a snake. They were higher thinking and could talk. He could try to get it to lie to him or tell him truths and see if he could tell the difference. There was also such a thing as possessing something. And Tom was not sure if he could remotely handle something like that but a snake would be preferable. 

He watched the mouse start to run away before hitting it with a hard stinging curse followed by a binding one. It gave strangles of breath squeaking loudly and frightened.

He hated that noise. It was an awful noise. He never liked crying animals or otherwise. He silenced it and that perhaps was worse because he could see the panic, the fear, and it could not vocalize it. 

Angry he looked away from it. 

~Shani~ 

She did not hesitate to eat it, and it was gone. It was as if it had never been there. But Tom knew that he had done it. Tom knew that perhaps it was wrong and not a kind thing to do. But if he wanted to protect then he needed to know all sorts of skills, that his mother feared to teach him. Tickling jinxes and tripping Hexes were nice to play pranks or disorient someone. Some of the other spells were more efficient. But what happened when someone wanted to take your life. 

A tripping jinx or getting their wand away from them did not mean anything. Tom had just reached 1.5 meters. He was not that tall, he was not that physically strong. And if he ran there was a good chance whoever was chasing would catch him with their longer strides or he would trip some how. He had tried to do what Shani suggested, but she was a snake, she didn’t understand proper running forms or how easy it was to get one’s leg caught on something when trying to look around them. 

Yes Tom knew that the best way to protect was to know the most destructive spells. Know the way to break shields near instantly. He knew there were things that he wouldn’t cast even if they were the strongest spells there were. 

Unforgivables. 

He had heard about them in the hallways between classes and had done his research. 

3 horrible curses: The Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus.

All 3 were things that if one was to use them on another person would mean a fate worse than death being sentenced to Azkaban. But of the 3 Tom didn’t fear the obvious one. Tom did not fear death. He did not want to die, certainly, he had a lot to live for. But he had had a few run-ins with death. He had almost welcomed it when the fungus was growing into the passageways of his lungs. It had been so painful that it would have been nice for it to have stopped. Cruciatus was scary, but Tom would rather be alive, alive meant a chance to getaway. If they thought him too in pain to act they might just leave him there. 

No, the scariest of all the curses was to Tom the Imperius. He had a few times not been in control of his actions. It had been when the magic had built up and lashed out. He had hurt paws gravely and he had killed because of it. Being unable to control what he was doing, unable to fight it off, and being forced to do unspeakable acts was the scariest thing that he could imagine. He would rather someone killed him than force him to hurt or kill the people closest to him. He would rather die than be subjected to some of the things that he read about people using the curse for. 

Tom considered the taking away of someone’s free will to be the gravest of the spells. And yet he was able to influence the animals into doing what he wanted. He might be able to use whatever it was that he was doing by concentrating hard enough to make someone back down. It was hypocritical even though he knew that but still…  
Still, he hoped that should he learn this skill there would be no need to do anything else if he was to be subjected he could stop them. 

~/*\~ 

Early summer turned to late summer. Things in the Muggle world got worse. Myrtle wrote to him and said that there was word that the Germans were planning on building up and armada airplanes to bomb Britain should they have to. The warnings had been made and Tom knew that they really would do it. 

He did not feel well for the rest of the summer, imagining over and over the areas of the British countryside being bombed. His mother was little help with claiming his nightmares. She gave him calming droughts and sleeping aids, and she sat up with him, but she told him that he was too old for her to sleep next to him and hold him like she did when he was little. He didn’t understand and she was evasive about the particular reason. 

He could feel a slight pull as if there was some sort of divide between them that wasn’t there before. He did not know why. He did not know how that had happened. But it seemed to do with the fact that he was getting older. Even though she certainly was too. He could see it in her face, she wore more glimmers. And he tried to have her understand that she didn’t need those things. They were distracting to him. It was like a part of her was not there anymore.

He was a bit grateful to be sent back to school and since they had upped the security around the tracks and the wards that protected the train. He was allowed to ride it to be with his friends. 

Myrtle wasted no time in pulling out her pamphlets and pins. 

“I got them all done, what do you think?” She handed it to Edgar first as a way to get probably the good news first. Not that Tom would criticize the design harshly he had been helping with them. 

“Wow, I actually really like this.” Edgar smiled, pinning it to himself not even bothering to hand it over so that Tom could get a look at it and because of the way that he was sitting next to him Tom couldn’t see it at all. 

“Here this one could be yours, for the price of a hug.” Myrtle Stood up and made her way closer. 

Tom sighed and opened his arms like one would if they were trying to imitate a large bird holding up its wings and trying to be intimidating. It was awkward if anything, but Myrle crushed him with her hug. 

“Thought that you needed one.” She slipped into sitting next to him so the 3 of them were squished onto one bench. “You were extra frowny.” 

He did not bother to explain that he had not had the best summer between worrying about them, his mother, and his capability to be of use in the war to come had really just tired him out. At least at school he knew that his friends would be relatively safe. 

“Thanks.” He managed looking at the small pin in his hand. It had a hand with some soil in it, with a small plant growing out of it. The only word on the pin was blood. It wasn’t subtle by any means as the leaves of the small plant were twisted a little into a heart. It looked very nice.  
“Does it pass?” She asked him, looking slightly anxious about the whole thing. 

“It looks very nice.” Tom smiled, pinning it to himself, to both make her happy and because if he was going to help pass them out he had to show some sort of support for it all. 

Myrtle smiled brightly, her hands were in little fists. “I can’t wait to pass them all out. Were going to spread a lot of support.” 

She was practically bouncing. 

Edgar elbowed him and as if to say you made her day look at her. Seeing them so happy, after everything that had been happening to the countryside over the summer was oddly nice. He felt something warm in his chest. Something really feelable through the cloud that was usually there. 

“Have you been practicing smiling?” She chuckled, “that one looks much better than the fake ones.”

Tom felt his face heat up. “Of course not.” 

“I bet he did.” Edgar nodded, “that one doesn't look creepy at all.”

“You think my smiles look creepy?” his face heated even more, he might be on fire. 

“Only the one that you close your eyes for when looking at teachers and tilting your head. Seriously because we know you it looks unnatural.” Myrtle patted his back. “But don’t worry we love you anyway.” 

“If you loved me you wouldn’t tease me,” Tom muttered. 

“That means we love you even more.” Edgar agreed yet again with Myrtle. 

He might have shoved them a little for that but he really was quite pleased overall. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione smiled at Oswin. They were having dinner after work there was nothing special about the occasion but she was glad that he was over. It had been a while since it was just the two of them. She had tried to make more time with him after the bill was passed. She might have also tried without being forceful having Tom and Oswin interact. Tom usually just avoided the other, made excuses, or refused entirely. 

It was hard. Very hard...

She was not sure if her son was trying to give her some space for the relationship or if he still really didn’t like the man that was smiling at her from across the table. They talked a little about the Wedding plans that Milly was making and who she was picking to do what in the ceremony. Usually, elves had to ask to breed if they were under contract. It had been a horrible discussion that she had with Whimsy who was happy that they had not thought to ask Hermione for permission. 

Talking late into the night led to after-dinner drinks. 

She happily was buzzed and asking him to dance with her to the random songs that were on the radio. Oswin was a lot soberer than she was. She could feel it in the way that she was swaying on her feet and he was keeping her upright. 

He was a great dancer, she did not know where he had learned. She remembered dancing with Tom and she missed him slightly, even if she was giggling as he spun her. His scarred hands never drifted past her waist. He was gentlemanly and careful. 

She eventually sat down and reached again for her glass. Her head was spinning and she felt really warm. 

“Do you not think that you have had enough?” Oswin smiled at her as he held her hand.

“No, have you not had enough?” She matched that one with one of her own but it might not have looked all that convincing. She shoved a glass his way after wriggling her hand free of his. 

“Hermione.” He shook his head, his blue eyes were so full of amusement. “I unlike you know that I should not have anymore.” 

“I’m not drunk.” Hermione leaned on the table so that she was closer to him. She pointed at him and his eyes widened for a second and she just started laughing. Because that expression was just too humorous. 

“Okay, then whatever you say.” He came to his senses it seemed.

He handed her a glass of water though and moved so that he was a little closer to her. 

The music from the radio stopped there was the sound of static and there was an announcement made from the British government. There was word for some sort of assassination. Her mind could not concentrate on it. 

She could hear the names being read from the radio and suddenly the names of the soldiers that were being mentioned turned into the names that were given from Ron’s radio. They were her friends' names, they were muggles that were caught in the middle of everything, and she could practically hear that locket whispering to her.

 _You will be next, you and your friends, you can’t hide from me._

That voice was in her head and she held her ears, remembering the tone that was only a slightly deeper version of her Tom’s voice. 

She hated it so very much. She clutched her head thinking about the way that green light was everywhere. The static on the radio reminding her of the warning that the Ministry had fallen. 

“Hermione.” 

Ron was looking at her smiling at her with that wide smile of his, that did not reach his eyes. “Are you alright?” 

She rubbed at her eyes as she realized that she was crying. She felt arms around her instantly. Warm tight arms, that she had been missing, that she had been dreaming of. 

“Oh, Ron.” She cried harder. “They are all dead, aren't they. How long until he finds us. How long until the Dark Lord knows what we're destroying and comes after us?” 

She asked him quietly, hoping that Harry would not hear how nervous she was. She wanted to be strong for him, she needed to have her wits about her. 

“Hermione.” 

That voice was not Ron's; she looked at the person that was holding her. She knew that face. She knew the well-trimmed beard and the safe hands that were holding onto her. But they were almost like strangers as well. Because it was not Ron or Harry and it was not Tom. She had not let another person close like this in a very long time. 

His blue eyes searched hers and she took in a shaky breath. “I went into my memories there. I apologize, could we turn off the radio.” 

She did not know if it was the drink or if it was the foreign feeling that was in her chest. But she did not want to be held. She wanted to be alone, but things, when she was alone, were not much better. She preferred it when it was just her and Tom. Back when Tom was smaller when things were easier, and when he wanted to spend more time with her. He was growing up and she did not know if she liked that. She didn’t know if she liked that he wouldn’t need her sometime soon anymore. Tom had been good at chasing away bad dreams. He usually stayed up with her. 

But now the nightmares came more often. They were harsh and focused on the new wizarding war that she was to find herself in and she would admit that she was scared. 

Yes, she was very scared to lose what little she had to it. 

“Hermione… I don’t want to pry but…” Oswin waved his wand and the radio turned off. 

He would want an explanation. Her head was still fuzzy from the panic that had hit her and the drink. She supposed that she owed him that. He was doing his best. 

“I was in a war a long time ago. They would read the names of everyone that died over and over, reminding us that he was still out there. That he was coming.” She felt her tears slow. “He was the Dark Lord, one that makes Grindelwald pale in comparison. His followers even more so.” 

His hold on her tightened but she felt very empty being held. It was just something she could not vocalize because she did not know how to express it.

She really missed Ron. 

He would have said something so stupid that she would have laughed a little at his attempt to make her feel better. It was always endearing the way that he tried. 

She breathed out deeply. “There is nothing that can be done now. It's all over. It’s been over for nearly 20 years now.”

He looked at her confused but she moved out of the hold that was holding her. She just didn’t know how to let herself be comforted like that anymore. Nor did she know exactly how to be that vulnerable. 

He was so kind to her, patent with her, and understanding. He was decently well-read, strong, charming in his own way with dry humor. 

BUT 

She did not love Oswin. 

But she wanted to. 

She really wanted to.

It was like when she was with Krum she had liked a lot about him. But there was something missing. There was something missing here too but she did not know what it was. She wondered in that moment as she looked at his concerned and loving face if whatever that spark was that she saw in Ron had died with him. So that she would nor could ever feel that way again. 

“I need to go to bed. Sorry.” She rushed and hurried up the staircase nearly falling. 

It would not be till she was sober that she would realize just how horrible she was being to Oswin, trying to force something to work. Tom was right about yet another thing. And yet she wanted to keep trying. She wanted to keep trying to find that spark, in someone that was so kind to her. 

~/*\~

This year Tom had big plans academic wise. He was in Ancient Runes and was hopeful to learn about the symbols that his mother placed on her wards. He might not have been taking Divination but that did not stop him from borrowing Myrtle’s textbook and wanting to learn about the subject. Astronomy was his other elective and he really enjoyed spending some of his evenings gazing out at the stars from the Astronomy tower or the owlery as he took care of Hoots. 

Tom helped Myrtle pass out the many pins and pamphlets to those that were in their newly formed study group. Most of the people that attended were Muggle-born and Half-bloods. They liked the idea of having a support system and being proud of their bloodlines rather than ashamed. It had been a very strong hit with them and Tom had taken immense joy in suggesting that other members of his house take one of the pamphlets. 

The study sessions were his time to learn from others. He might be smarter than most of the other kids that joined. But they did have other things to offer. Tom was learning about the Muggle world from them, social cues, and how to at least fake to have more friends and be on friendly terms. 

He set out his star gazing chart. He was on the main floor tonight, mostly because if he were to be anywhere else he might not have been able to rush down into the Slytherin dorms at the sound of one of the prefects. He may have been up a little later than the pass he was written would allow. 

Tom liked the stars. He had always liked them when he was little his mother used to tell him to make little wishes on them. And Tom would spend forever picking on that looked correct to make a wish. Now that he was older he certainly knew that wishes were the things of fairy tales and other nonsense but he took pride in gazing at the heavens and knowing the names of the brightest and farthest of planets one could see with the naked eye or with a telescope. 

It was peaceful too. Nothing moved so it was not like bird watching where it was there one second and gone the next. Stars were ancient and the constellations studied as long as man wanted to categorize things. 

It mattered little to him that some of the Blacks named themselves after stars. Even they could not ruin the heavens. They could try to make claims by taking the names of them, but there was no way in which to own a star. No way to claim something so beautiful. If he could he would have stolen a broom out of the broom shed and flew up there. Where the stars were endless. 

There was a loud noise that seemed to come from below him though. It rattled and clanged like the old pipes tended to do but this time there was a voice though the steam hisses. 

**Where arrrre you… Where arrrre you… losssst…Lost...Lossst… Ssso lost.**

The voice seemed to be in his head. It was splitting as if there was a chorus of loud whispers echoing around, and squeezing at the temples. The voice while being like a harsh whisper in sound was loud. And no matter how he covered his ears it would not go away. It though got softer as if the person or thing that was whispering it left. 

**Find me… Fiiind meee. Find me… Lost… lost**

He waited till the sound was just a buzzing left in his skull and took in deep breaths before he shakingly made his way back into the dungeons. 

~/*\~

Tom was in the middle of talking to Edgar in their favorite corner about the latest detective comic when it came from the walls. It was loud and pulsing in his skull. It took him a moment to remember the sensation. The voice had not come back for a month and by that point, Tom thought that perhaps he had just dreamed it.

But it was impossible to deny it now that he was hearing it again in broad daylight. 

**losssst…Lost...Lossst… Ssso lost. Find me… Find… me… Little one...**

He braced himself against the wall trying to follow the sound but as quickly as it had come it had vanished and he slid down the wall into a seat. He could breathe again. 

Edgar was quick to his side. “Tom, what was that? You looked like you were having a fit.” 

“You didn’t hear it?” He asked because how could no one else hear this voice. It was so loud and painful in his head. 

“Hear what? All I heard was the old pipes making noise again.” Edgar narrowed his eyes a little. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine.” He managed. 

“Are you sure? I know that hearing voices is not exactly normal.” He held onto his shoulder and the pressure felt nice. It was nice to know that Edgar cared. 

“I just have a headache, I am sure that it's fine.” He stood up and dusted himself off. 

“I’ll take you to Madam Hunterz.” Edgar picked up Tom’s bag for him before he could protest and started dragging Tom when he did not start moving towards the hospital wing. 

Abraxas saw them and elbowed Avery that snickered. Tom would have to think of a way to alleviate those smiles. He did not like them at all. 

~/*\~

“Edgar told me that you were in the hospital wing earlier today.” Myrle sat way too close to him at their shared Magical History table. 

While last year had focused on many significant battles, and wars in the wizarding world. This year was more dedicated to important people that changed the British Wizarding World and Global heroes. Binns had thought that it was best to start off with the foundations of how wizarding was established in the British isles so very long ago. It had led them to talking about the first Ministry, and the first schools. That meant Hogwarts and one would think that could be interesting, but Binns had droned on and on about Godric Gryffindor that Tom was sick about hearing about the founders and they had not even talked about the other 3. Worst yet was the fact that most of the stuff he was spouting was not in the book and Tom was almost damn positive it was just to force them to spend a little bit of class conscience enough to scribble it all down. 

“Yes. I had a bad headache.” Tom whispered to her as Binns decided to draw something on the board. Knowing him they would have to wait 10 minutes for him to actually have any sort of diagram to go with what he was currently trying to explain. 

“Edgar told me you heard a voice, I want to talk about that with you later.” She whispered even softer than him back. 

He sighed, he really did not want to talk about it. Myrtle would make it into a big deal and it was better if it was just stress like Madam Hunterz had suggested. Because Tom refused to believe that he was going crazy. 

~/*\~

He had not expected Myrtle to drag him to the scene of the crime. It was not like one of her detective novels. This was real life and just because he had heard the voice in this spot did not mean that he would hear it here again. After all, he had heard it on the first floor, by the dungeons first. 

“Okay.” She put her one hand on her hips and put a hat on with the other. “What did the voice say? Where did you hear it exactly from? And what did it sound like?”

Tom blinked, was she trying to pretend to be Sherlock Holmes?

“Nice hat Myrtle,” Edgar said as he joined them. 

“Thanks.” she smiled. “It came with my last set of detective novels.” 

That confirmed that. Didn’t explain why she had it on her, the only thing he could think of was that she had gone back to the Ravenclaw dorms to get it. 

“Talk Tom. What did you hear?” Myrtle demanded as if she was a real investigator and the only way to get it to stop was perhaps to help riddle out whatever it was that he was hearing so that 

“It was a voice. A hushed but loud one, it came from the walls, and all it said was that it was lost and to go find it.” Tom sighed. “And before you say anything I know that I’m not crazy I have heard it ask before.”

“Well if that isn’t the start of a horror comic.” Edgar shook his head. “I’ve read enough to know this is exactly how it starts. First, someone hears voices, then the evil spirit or monster keeps enticing them to figure out what it is just so that it can eat them or kill them so that they can join them in the afterlife.” 

“Thanks for that wonderful image.” Tom glared at him, feeling a slight bit more on edge about the whole thing.

“Not to worry Tom. We’ll protect you and make sure that you don’t get possessed into following it.” Edgar put his arm around him.

Tom just sighed. “There has to be a logical explanation other than this thing that wants to kill me. There are a lot of ghosts in the castle, maybe there is one stuck in the pipes.”

“But only you can hear it.” Myrtle pointed out. “Ghosts and poltergeists should be heard by others.” 

“All I heard was the hissing of the pipes,” Edgar said tightening his hold a little on Tom who started to wiggle to get out of it. 

“Is it possible that the hissing is more than steam or the clanging of the pipes?” Myrtle put her hand to her chin. 

Tom paused in his struggles, “Do you think that it could be a snake? Usually, though they are hardly that loud.” 

“This one would have to be massive.” Edgar let go of Tom and he stumbled back a little bit. “I mean I could hear it from behind the walls.”

“We don’t know for sure that it’s a snake, but it is an interesting Theory.” Myrtle agreed. ‘It would explain why Tom is the only one that can hear words. We should look into the Magical creatures index to see if there are any large serpents in there that could be native to the region.” 

“Unless it was placed there,” Edgar said. “You know someone had it as a pet and it got too big so they flushed it down the toilet. I read that in America people flushed alligators and they ended up in the sewers.” 

“I don’t think there are alligators in new york swears.” Myrtle folded her arms, but snakes are known to wander the plumbing.” 

~/*\~

When they had time over the weekend the 3 of them went into the library and did their research. Turned out there were a few snakes that were very large and symbolism for snakes stretched across nearly all magical cultures. 

There were sea serpents like snakes that were named Jormungand after Norse Mythology. They could grow to great lengths, some reaching over 100ft. Whether there could be a small one that swam up into the pipes from the lake was another matter. It had said that it was lost. The pipes would have water moving to heat the castle and to cool it, but how much Tom could not be sure. 

They ruled out Gorgons and Naga through a harsh debate between Tom and Myrtle about how they had gone extinct long ago. Myrtle argued that it was not smart to narrow anything out. The argument was called when Edgar brought up the fact that it had to fit in the pipes and he couldn’t see something so magical, rare, and intelligent wanting to live in a secondary school. 

Quetzalcoatl, and similarly the Occamy existed; they were long serpents that had wings. They were hauntingly beautiful at least to Tom. As much as he wanted to think there was a chance in finding something so rare and magical in the basement or pipes of their school, he did not know for sure if that was the case. It seemed that they could shrink or grow to fit where it needed to. 

Lastly, they came across the Basilisk and it was native at least to Europe. It was bred for years in the countryside even though they were known to be XXXXX monsters, wizard killers, and the practice was banned. They were powerful and capable of killing with a look to the eyes and could not be tamed according to the index.

“I’m going to hope that it's not a Basilisk.” Egar sighed. After they had completed their research. “I don’t want to come face to face with that.”

‘Because you would be dead.” Myrtle said calmly. “It's possible that it's an Occamy or Jormungand. And then it would at the very least not be as dangerous.”

“Yeah but I mean there is the whole part where they are not native right? Someone had to have dumped it.” Edgar countered. 

Tom chewed a little on his lip. “We don’t know what actually lives in the dark forest whatever it is could have wandered in from there.”

Myrtle sighed. “We also have no idea on how to try and find it. There could be entrances to the swears and the plumbing but the castle is massive and magical. There is no way of telling if we would find whatever it is.” 

“Are we sure that we should?” Tom said plainly. “Some of the things that we were researching are very territorial and would probably want to kill us.”

“But you can talk to it.” Myrle counted.

“Doesn't mean that it will listen. Not all snakes like even those that can talk to them.” Tom shook his head remembering his first encounters with snakes. They had been very rude and threatened to bite him. He did not want something that was at the very least 7 meters long deciding that it would rather bite him than talk with him.

“Tom is right, but I think we should find whatever it is, or at least gather proof of it. The teachers then can take care of it.” Edgar looked determined. “If it is going to keep calling out to Tom and causing him discomfort then it should be our mission to put an end to it.” 

Tom rubbed at his face. “I suppose it is too late to ask that we not investigate further into this and leave it alone.”

“Merlin no.” Myrtle shook her head. “This is the most interesting thing that has ever happened here. There is no way we're not getting to the bottom of it.”

“Great.” Was all that Tom managed before he was swallowed up in a Myrtle hug with Edgar. 

“Were the Myrtle Mystery Squad now.” 

“How about we drop your name in front of it and say it's the MET,” Edgar suggested. 

“Fine.” Myrle dropped the hug. But I’m still calling it the Mystery Squad so combined it's the MET Mystery Squad.” 

Tom rolled his eyes. What had he gotten himself into? 

~/*\~

The Ministry had fallen back on its word. There was no real evidence of it taking the precautions that it had promised. It had been months. So it was up to her. She started organizing volunteer groups to travel to Muggle homes that had magical children and place the protective wards necessary. 

Her group met every week and spent the weekend traveling to places that needed them most. It was hard to see some of the areas that were outside of Britain that were hit. But there were a lot of people that were grateful. And it was not breaking any laws due to the parents already knowing their children had magic. Just to be safe she had gotten herself a very fine Goblin Lawyer involved. He would warn her of any legal issues.

She took the mail from the many owls that came to the potion shop and helped to sort through them. One was a black envelope and it caught her eye. She could feel the magic coming from it, compelling almost her to open it. Before Mox could touch it she opened it a safe distance away from the with her wand. 

The letter was indeed cursed. There was no name on who it was from, but it did have in bold curved letters a warning. A warning that the next time, it would be fatal and to stop meddling in things that she did not have to concern herself in.

It looked like Grindelwald and his followers had finally made their moves. 

~/*\~

The next letter came a month later it was more threats, this time involving herself, her employees, and Tom. her blood boiled at the notes. She spoke to those in charge of public safety but there was little to go on. The owls that were used were unregistered, and there were so many owls that entered and exited her shop it wasn’t realistic to try and track them all. 

She put up a few more wards on her store and the ways to get to her staff's personal quarters. And she warned her employees to be careful. Insisting that groups of two did deliveries to nonregular customers. 

She contemplated sending Tom a letter to warn him but she did not want to needlessly worry him about her own life. She doubted that anyone would really have access to him in Hogwarts and his trips to Hogsmeade were well supervised and with many other students percent. She would only warn him if it got any worse. Hogwarts checked all the letters that went in and out for unfriendly magic so they wouldn’t be sending anything that way. 

~/*\~

Binns was giving yet another lecture on the founders. But the usual information had taken a turn when he mentioned that Salzahar Slytherin was rumored to have built a secret room in the castle. Referred to as the Chamber of Secrets. 

Tom actually raised his hand for the first time in 3 years of the class. Actually his movement caught a few people off guard because it just might have been the first hand raised in any of the shared sessions. 

“Sir could you tell us more about this chamber.” 

Binns actually looked very surprised to have been asked a question but seemed to be happy enough to give a very slight smile as a response. It almost looked like it broke his wrinkled features to do so. And so Binns talked about in-depth about the hidden chamber, the monster that was said to be inside of it, and Salizar Slytherin's hate that was so great that he wanted to wipe out the Muggleborns that attended Hogwarts. 

Tom listened intently. He did not exactly know why but if there was a strange feeling in his gut that told him that it was important. His mother had mentioned that only the Slytherin line was gifted with the ability to speak to snakes. It was very possible that he was one of the heirs.

Everyone in his house had at one point or another tried to point this out to him and he had ignored it. But perhaps there was something to it. If there was a huge chamber hiding in the school, then he probably was one of the few that could open it. 

What kind of knowledge would wait down there?

But it also said there was something that lurked guarding it.

And only something that Salizar could control.

So that meant that it had to be a sort of snake. Something that could be used to purge the school. And that snake was now wandering the plumbing. 

Or this was an insane coincidence. 

It might be possible that someone else in his house was a closer relation or true heir than he was, a Pureblood that was looking for the snake. 

Perhaps it was time to look into his family history...

He looked over at Myrtle to see if she was thinking along similar lines, and she looked like the cat that had gotten the Conary so it was very obvious that they had another lead into their mystery. 

~/*\~

“Let's go over it again.” Myrtle paced their usual location on the 3rd floor. Tom had not heard the voice in nearly 2 months. There was not much to go on. 

“We know that Tom possibly is an heir to Slytherin or at least a decedent, but the last members of the Slytherin family recorded was the Gaunts and by the way, that family tree is there is no evidence of affairs outside of the line that could have lead to Tom unless there was a squib. Unless we can ask his mother directly there is no way to trace the Granger line here.” 

“For the last time. I’m not asking her.” Tom folded his arms. “She gets really weird when I ask about the family. She lost a lot of them in her fight against an American Dark Lord. I only have seen maybe 5 total pictures of my extended family.” 

“All the more reason. You're going to be 14 shouldn’t you at least know more about where you came from. My family showed me the tree long ago.” Myrtle pressed. 

“I am not asking.” Tom hissed at her.

Sensing the fight Edgar interrupted. “We also know that Salizar hated Muggle-borns and put a monster in the chamber that has to be a snake because all we can hear is the pipes hissing. We know because it has lived hundreds of years or mated later in life and had kids that are now in the pipes that it has to be a Basilisk or a Jormungand. ” 

“Both of which wouldn’t be the best to meet in a dark pipe,” Tom added dryly. 

“We know that it is using the pipes.” Myrtle ignored Tom’s harsher tone in favor of pressing on. “So there has to be a way to trace the pipes of the school and find a place where enough of them meet. If we know that, then we can start mapping out possible locations.” 

“Where are we going to find that detail of a map of the castle?” Edgar asked. 

Yes, Tom was wondering that as well. The best that they found was a list of rooms in the castle that was made in the 1800s and it was not completed and it even mentioned that there were places that needed to be updated and that there were hidden rooms being found all the time. 

“I was thinking about that.” Myrtle nodded her head and her pigtails danced by the very quick movement. “The only person that I can think of that would have thee most updated map is the caretaker. He has to know what to inspect and fix if needed. We need to either steal a copy from him or duplicate one.”

“No.” Tom shook his head. “No way am I getting myself into detention to Apollyon Pringle you know that he likes to deal physical punishments right?” 

“I heard that he caned Kayle to the point where she has permeate damage.” Edgar shuddered. 

“He isn’t allowed to hang people by their thumbs anymore.” Myrtle folded her arms, “and that is just a rumor the worst that he can do is hit you with a paddle a few times. And then take points.” 

“Have you been hit with a paddle Myrtle? It really hurts.” Edgar argued. “My Gran did it once and trust me I don’t want a repeat performance.” 

“I have seen him carrying a very large plank of wood with holes in it.” Tom offered.

“Yah that's it, hurts more when it has holes so I’ve heard.” Edgar shook his head.

“Well, we need that map. I’m not saying that we need to necessarily get detention to get it. Maybe I can distract him and one of you can get to it.” Myrtle clarified. 

Tom rubbed his hands down his face. “This is a terrible idea. But I suppose that I could go to his office on the pretense that I need to write an essay about the Hogwarts castle for Binns and if he has any ideas about what the most interesting parts of the castle are. It would at the very least give me a sneak peek into his office before we attempt any sort of gaining a map.” 

“He does like to rattle on and on about the rule book that only he has a complete copy of. Maybe I can distract him with that the second time when we're getting the map.” 

~/*\~

Tom made use of his break between classes to make his way towards Pringle’s office. He took a deep breath and knocked hard on the wooden frame. 

A man that had long greasy black and gray hair opened the door. “What do you want?” He all but snarled. 

“Good afternoon.” Tom smiled nicely, about as nicely as he could considering, “I have an essay on the Hogwarts castle from Professor Binns and I was wondering if you have anything that could be useful to tell me about the castle..” 

The man looked at him for a harsh second. “I ain't writing your paper for you.” 

“I would never ask that sir. I am just sure someone that has been working so diligently around the castle as you do, would have advice about what parts of it I should include or research.”

The man scowled, seeming to think it over. “I have work to do boy.” 

Tom did his best to look disappointed. 

“But.” The man seemed to reconsider, “I see your pin and know you are a good kid. So come by tonight after I set up the kids that deserve punishing with their detention schedule and I’ll give yah a tour and tell yah about some of the stuff they don’t place in any old rotten book.” 

Tom smiled gratefully as he turned. Taking a deep breath as he turned the corner. Who would have thought that Pringle was a Muggle-born lover, or at least tolerant of them? 

Tom showed up at around 8 when he knew that Pringle was most likely to be done giving students lists of things he wanted done and they better get done. The man opened his office to Tom. It was pretty small, a closet really. Filled with lots of boxes that seemed to have collected student’s items, ones that Tom was sure were banned. The back wall though was a large blueprint with taped notes to it.

The man noticed his wandering eyes.

“Yes, that would be the map of the castle, shows everything that we know about it.” He motioned for Tom to stand behind the desk to look at it. “Lots of passages.”

He grinned a little evilly at that. And Tom had no doubt that he used them to get around and sneak up on students. There was a lot there, but at the very least he wouldn’t have to search the office to make a copy of the map. 

~/*\~

It was not till near the Christmas Holidays that Myrtle was able to subtly pull Pringle from his office. Tom did get a copy and they spent all of their weekends placing Xs on places that would have pipes too small for the snake to be moving. 

Edgar and her were going to spend their break at school for their safety. Tom made them promise not to do anything stupid without him. As he was heading home, his mother was planning on picking him up from Hogsmeade. 

“You sure she won’t mind if I get food in town with you?” Edgar followed Tom down the path, he was kind enough to be holding Shani that was coiling up around his neck. If it was not for the very powerful heating charm that was on her almost turtleneck like sweater she would probably be in trouble. 

“She won’t mind.” Tom would have invited Myrtle too, but he did not trust her not to bring up their investigation. 

Edgar looked over his shoulder there Shani’s large eyes were glaring at. Tom paused in his movements too. 

~There is something moving ahead~ She hissed. 

Tom looked hard past the trees, taking out his wand. He listened and tensely held his ground. 

Nothing. 

~What is it~ He glanced back at Shani. 

~Listen~ Shani insisted. 

And there was the noise and through the trees, there was that very large kid that Tom had seen him now that he thought about roaming the school at night. He favored the forest now that he thought about it. 

“What are you doing in the woods,” Tom demanded.

The kid actually flinched. “Just explorin is all.” He said almost timidly. 

How on earth was such a large kid scared of Tom and Edgar and he was supposed to be Griffendor at least by the messy uniform. 

Tom glared at him. “You shouldn’t be exploring there, it's dangerous. Haven’t you heard about the rogue werewolves, centaurs, and supposed man-eating spiders?”

Edgar nodded beside him. 

“I'm not scar’d” The larger kid said matter of factually.

“Then you're an idiot,” Tom said plainly and started making his way back down the path. “Try not to get eaten.” 

“Probably should be careful, first years aren’t supposed to venture this far.” Edgar waved at him a little awkwardly before following Tom back down the rest of the path to the village. 

His mother was waiting for him just where she said she would be. She smiled widely and welcomingly. 

~/*\~

The winter holiday passed uneventfully. It was not until the night before his birthday that there was anything of news. 

The news came from the radio that was sitting in the living room. Whimsy had been knitting his mother reading. And Tom had been reviewing the chapter he had read from the new spellbook that his mother had gifted him. 

``````The German air force (Luftwaffe) has just bombed London, creating an estimated 1,500 fires. Never has the city faced such a treat. There is not yet word on how many people are dead. God have mercy on us all. The destruction is everywhere….````````

Tom excused himself unable to breathe at the thought that if Edgar had gone home for the holidays there was a chance that he wouldn’t be returning to Hogwarts. He spent a long time in the bathroom just taking in relieved breaths. 

It was still horrible. 

Muggles were horrible to do that to one another. 

But he couldn’t say that something similar couldn’t happen on the wizarding front. All that it would take would be well-timed killing spells and enough people to do it. 

The next day, Tom did not feel much like celebrating his birthday; he instead waited for post to know if Edgar’s family were okay. 

~/*\~

When Tom went back to school. Hermione again felt very empty the threats were continuing, and it so happened that she was now officially on her last warning. Not that she completely believed that. She did not know if the person that was sending them was getting desperate or if they did not truly have the ability yet to make moves against her. She recorded them with the local Ministry Aurors that were still less than useless. There was no way that she would be stopping her help of Muggle-borns now. A lot of people even with increased protection had damage to their homes or livelihoods. Her group was determined to help solve that. 

There was little that she would not do for those that needed her. She would not back down. Even if they did damage her store in retaliation like they were promising. 

~/*\~ 

Tom laid in bed and that voice came. 

**Find me… Fiiind meee. Find me… Lost… lost**

He thought for a second that he was dreaming, as the pressure was not that great on his head. But one look at Shani and he knew. He knew that she could hear it too. She was shaking and Tom had never seen a single thing scare Shani. 

**Where… Where…Must Kill…Must Find….**

Tom stood and grabbed his wand he followed the noise, Shani hardly able to move with fear clung almost too tightly to him. He made his way up to the common room. He could still hear it. Still feel the pressure on his head. 

**Must find…. Must… Feed… kill Kill KILL**

He was out of the dorms now, following the sound even with how stupid that must be. Shani tightened on his shoulder and around his neck making it slightly hard to breathe. The voice was getting quieter but he needed to find it, or someone that could help. It was going to kill someone or something. 

**Rip…. Bite …. Eat them...**

He paused when he could not hear it any longer as the pipe must have gone up to a place that he could not hear or to low back into the caverns that he heard were under the school. 

Shani now seemed to calm, brought out of her fear that had been causing her to near strangle him. She released her coils. Her silver eyes flickering in the small torchlight in the halls. Tom then realized that he had tracked it nearly to the Gryffindor corridor or at least the way to get towards their tower. He could hear footsteps and he hid himself and Shani in an alcove and watched with bated breath Pringle make his way down towards the shifting staircases. 

He let out a soft breath and waited a few more minutes before he heard it again. 

**Smell Him…. I Smell Him….**

He heard it as if it was just below him. There was no shifting of the stone, but there was the loudness of hisses, being brought in and out of its breath. 

He did what any smart Slytherin would do. He grabbed onto Shani tightly and bolted away from the voice. It was looking for him or someone else and that was all that he needed to know to try to get away from it. 

He did not like this Misery business any longer. He was done. He just wanted to stop hearing it. 

Stop hearing it seem to hiss inside of his skull. 

He never wanted to hear it again. 

He turned a tight corner and paused when he heard his name. His eyes darting till he saw the man that called it. 

“Tomas goodness what are you doing out of bed?” It was Slughorn. He was looking like he had just returned from being out late for the weekend. 

He did not hear anything. There was no way that he could have. 

“I need to see Professor Dumbledore.” He said it as calmly as possible though he could not feel the voice in his head anymore, he could still feel his heart racing. There was nothing but the eerie silence of the castle around him. The thick walls felt almost suffocating. 

“I don’t know if he would be up, can this not wait Tomas?” 

“No.” He shook his head frantically.” If there was someone that probably would believe him it was Dumbledore and since he had followed the voice nearly up to Gryffindor tower, perhaps he could deal with it.

“We can at least try to see if he is awake then.” Slughorn eyed him strangely. He was looking at Shani that was full-on display. 

Tom let himself be led to the man’s door. He was wearing some weird sort of night robe. 

“Tom it is odd to see you this late, with Horace no less.” He eyed the both of them. He looked tired Tom could tell by the way that his eyes had bags under them. 

“I found him running the halls and he asked to be brought to you.” Slughorn again eyed Tom wearily. 

“Tom, I assume that it couldn’t wait till morning.” Dumbledore was forcing a smile. Tom could tell. He didn’t exactly know why. 

Shani hissed slowly as the old man looked at him.

~Shani~ He hissed at her. ~It’s okay~

~He smells of danger. I must protect you Hatchling~

~Trust me.~ Tom implored her. 

She flattened herself again against him. 

Both were now looking at him. Slughorn looked like he had just seen something that he could not decide if he should be scared of or be celebrating and Dumbledore was looking with a calculating look.

“Shani was a bit scared of you.” Tom lied to Dumbledore if anything Shani wanted to fight the old man. She did not like his smell. “I didn’t want her to attack you, sir.” 

“I think you better come in Tom and is this something that you wish another to know?” 

Tom shook his head quickly. He did not want Slughorn to hear, that the man was not good at keeping secrets. Tom did not trust someone that saw students as things to use later on in life. He was some shiny thing to that man and he was not sure that he really cared or not. 

“I’ll escort him back after our talk. Don’t take it personally Horace, I work very closely with Tom’s mother. I am sure that is the only reason that he is coming to me tonight. She has been getting those letters you recall.” 

The potions master gave a swift nod. “But of course, of course. Tom don’t be afraid to talk to me should you need it, and Professor Dumbledore is not available.” 

Dumbledore closed the door and cast a muffling spell so that nothing that they said could be overheard. 

“Now Tom what do you need to talk about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter was going to end up with them finding the chamber because we both know that is coming. But you know what I got a little distracted with something called character development.


	23. Part XXlll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who would like to meet a large snake?

“Now Tom what do you need to talk about.” Dumbledore took a seat behind the desk. As he moved Tom could see that he had a slight bit of dirt on his neck and on his trousers that did not seem to match the top that was for sleep ware that was also stained with dirt.

He suddenly felt a little bit silly running to the man. Well, it was not like he had much of a choice if he wanted to avoid his house losing points and a needless detention. He was taking a bit of pride that Pringle would sometimes smile just slightly at him when he passed. And Tom was sure that if he continued to be polite that perhaps there would be an unknowing ally out of it all. It had been fear more than anything, of the thing that was calling him from the pipes that had driven him here. Because who else but the man that could possibly fight Grindelwald could fight the thing. 

He now that he thought about it he had almost been entranced to find it because no way he would do something so stupid as to follow that voice. It wanted that. It wanted to be found... 

Yes, Dumbledore had been someone that he trusted slightly, enough to talk with him about the war, and to update him about how a few of the other students were acting but would he really be worth trusting in this situation.

More of, would think that he was crazy? 

~Smells of Danger~ Shani repeated with a low hiss. And Tom could tell that the old man had been up to a bit more than just being outside of the castle because he smelled like a hint of charcoal and sulfur. 

“Tom.” Dumbledore waited. 

He was not sure what to say. His mind was racing with the best way to describe it all and not sound like a nut job. Sure Myrtle and Edgar believed him, but they were also his friends and as such they sort of had to like him and go along with things. 

“Sir, you don’t look like you were out on the town as they say like Professor Slughorn.” Stalling would be useful in this case.

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, I assume that is why your snake was a little nervous.”

“I think it has to do with she holds grudges and you were a threat the last time that she saw you,” Tom answered honestly. ”But you also smell like gunpowder.” 

Dumbledore nodded. “That summer perhaps, it could be seen that way. And I have just returned from France. I am sure that you know what is going on there.”

Yes, Tom, did there was an invasion of German troops squaring off against the combined forces of the remaining French and the British. 

“Was he there sir?” Tom asked plainly, straightening up in his seat. Dumbledore would know more than he did about what was happening to the war. He couldn’t listen to Muggle radio in the castle.

“I did come in contact with a few of his followers. They have been stealing a few artifacts as of late and trying to locate others, for what end I am not certain. But that is not what we are here to discuss. We’re here because you are wandering the halls in your nightclothes, it hardly looks like you wanted to sneak out of bed. Was it a dream?” He asked. Those ancient eyebrows raised a little.

Tom could perhaps work with that. Yes, tell a lie that it was a dream and go back to bed. But the idea that the snake thing could find him anywhere and whisper things to him was not a good one. There was also the fact that it did seem to want to find and kill someone and was trying to call him to it. A Basilisk or a Jormungand was not something that Tom wanted continuing to call after him. 

“I know that your mother has been having some threatening letters sent her way.” Dumbledore kindly said to him but that just added another layer to everything.

He felt a slight itch behind his eyes and he rubbed it with his sleeve. She was hiding again from him that she was in danger…

Godric damn it. 

Why would she not tell him this?

Why did she have to be so secretive?

He refused to show weakness. He composed his breaking mask the best that he could. 

“I often have dreams, sir.” Tom lied as it seemed the other was a bit impatient for an answer. He probably wanted to take a shower with the way he looked. Well he didn’t lie completely he often dreamed about the war, things that could happen to his mother when he was away, and the possible fates of his friends in their respective countryside homes. 

“Are they the awful type?” 

Tom wished that he could say no. He saw cities burning and Edgar's family and everyone else burning and he did not care if it was not his Mother, Edgar, Myrtle, or Whimsy. He knew that Edgar's family if they were hurt, would make Edgar not as good of a friend because it would deeply affect him and Tom would not be able to relate because he didn’t think that he would be that particularly sad about it. Maybe upset that Edgar was upset but nothing else. 

“I dream of the war, sir. It's hardly pleasant.” Tom did not want to go into detail. “But that was not why I was in the halls.”

“No, you are not the sort to seek comfort from a nightmare from me.” Dumbledore waved his hand and the teapot that he had on the small side table started brewing. “So what had you wandering the halls?”

He took a very deep breath. Honesty was not really his best policy and he usually likes to twist his words, especially around people that he didn’t completely trust. But this was about both his own safety and the safety of the few redeemable people in Hogwarts. He couldn’t hope to deal with something like that. He was 14 and adults here were in their 60’s. They could handle it certainly better than a group of 3rd years. 

“I heard a voice,” Tom said as calmly as possible. “I have been hearing it for months.” 

Dumbledore frowned at that. “A voice.”

“At first I thought that I was dreaming it, as it happened a few times at night. But at this point, I am near positive that there is something in the pipes that is serpentine in nature. It has to be big because it's so loud that it hurts my head. It’s looking for something or someone. It keeps calling out for them to find it. Come to it. ”

“And you thought that it was best to follow it?” Dumbledore now had folded his arms on the desk he looked to be deep in thought. 

“I followed it up all the way to the Gryffindor hallway,” Tom admitted. “And it was hardly a choice, it's almost like I’m compelled to follow it.” 

~The King of snakes calls.~ Shani lifted her head up and tightened her hold. ~It calls, we must follow.~

Tom looked at her and slowly reached a hand up to pet her head. The king of snakes, it sounded familiar. 

Dumbledore looked at Shani for a second but then continued his little lecture. “I don’t have to tell you how foolish that is. We are at war or at least the start of one, no group ready to make the first definite strike. Your mother has already sided against Grindelwald and he knows this. He has been sending those threatening letters for a reason. While I am not sure he is behind the snake in the plumbing or whatever it is, he has employed sneaky methods before.”

The teacups were distributed and tea was poured by the old man. Tom who had been sitting and contemplating decided to break the pungent silence. 

“It seems like a lot of work sir, to either get to yourself as it was headed your way or to get someone like me. I am not really that significant of a chess piece.”

“That remains to be seen,” Dumbledore said strangely. “You are one of my students and I do work closely with your mother. She and her group have been doing what some would deem the ministry's job for them, placing wards up for Muggle-born students, and finding places in which they can stay should they need to over the holidays. She has even pressed a possible fostering system for younger children than 11 that could possibly be orphaned by the war so that they will not have to be subjected to Muggle run orphanages.”

“Most orphaned would be Muggle-borns,” Tom nodded in understanding. 

“Indeed, and her good deeds will save thousands, however, it puts her as a very strong or possibly the primary roadblock in Grindelwald’s way. As long as she stands tall there are those that will follow her to the ends of the earth.”

“She won’t back down,” Tom said knowingly. 

There was a slight twinkling to the old man’s eyes before he made his face as serious as he could again. 

“There is one thing though that is her weakness, and it is you, Tom. Your mother I have no doubt would quit her rebellion against the status quo if there is a very high risk that you will be affected by it. Gryffindor Tower is closest to the boundary of wards. It would be fairly simple to snatch a person that was to wander too far. It is why I have promised to supervise the village weekends.”

He felt that very uncomfortable feeling in his gut again. That one that told him that he was worthless and that he was not strong enough. He would have to train harder. He would not...no couldn’t be something that would cause his mother to back down. He didn’t want to be helpless if the time came and he had to cross wands with someone.

“I know it is a lot to take in and I sincerely apologize for spelling out this grim truth to you. But it is an unfortunate reality and the more that you are aware of and cautious of the better.” Dumbledore sighed out. “The matter of a large snake in the pipes is troubling even if it turns out that it is not directly related to Gellert. I have someone that I trust may be able to help. He deals with mystical beasts quite often. He is not available at the moment, but at his earliest convenience I shall have him look into this matter.”

He got a very calculated look. “I am going to have to ask you not to go seeking the voice again Tom. Even if it is very alluring and you wish to help.”

Tom frowned just slightly knowing that his friends probably wouldn’t feel the same way.

~/*\~

The windows were smashed out completely and marks carved into the frame of the sill. The marks being things to try to get past the wards. The perpetrator was not caught, because of course, he wasn’t. And since It had happened in the night and the Vampires had been more concerned with making sure that the fire that was attempted to be set to the place did not make it past the sill. 

Whoever had tried this they were no doubt sorry for the fact that they had pissed off a very powerful group of vampires.

“He cut his hand on the glass,” Mordred spoke quietly from the shadows of the office. The sun would burn him if he was not so tightly wrapped up. “We can track him with the blood that he left behind. Evangeline is eager to do so. She thinks that it is best that we scare away any that think that they can do that to our benefactor.”

“And what does the rest of your colony think?” Hermione asked patiently. She was not sure that she wanted to send Vampires after someone, but if they could find the man responsible they could get some answers at the very least. 

“They are split. On one hand, it would mean possibly exposing ourselves and you know how the Ministry will react in turn but on the other, we can make it clear that this is a protected place. Not much wants to tangle with us, at least not prepared and even then. You have done much for us, Hermione. We owe you greatly.”

“Could you perhaps do this subtlely without risk of exposure, no threat, just a standard track and we get the authorities involved with some evidence that we could find?”

“We can do it discreetly if that is what you mean.” Mordred nodded his head, the long black strands to his hair coming out from under his hood slightly with the movement. 

Hermione nodded. “I would be grateful if we could find out who is working with Grindelwald than we can take better precautions both for ourselves and for those that we are representing politically.” 

“Wise as ever.” Mordred agreed.

Hermione nodded her head once more, sitting back at her desk to write a letter to Tom as she had no doubt that the “attack” would be reported on by tomorrow morning at the latest.

~/*\~ 

“What do you mean that we have to stop investigating.” Myrtle glared at Tom.

“I mean that Professor Dumbledore said that he would take care of it. We don’t need to further involve ourselves. This thing is dangerous, and what would we even do if we found it?” Tom glared back at her. “Even if I can talk to it I don’t want to. It could be a trap for all we know.” 

“If it’s going to be trying to eat people, or is looking for a true heir then we should keep investigating.” Myrtle held her arms tightly folded in defiance. “Who knows how long it will take the adults to tackle it. The more we know the better even if it is just to hand it off to someone.” 

“Like they would even listen to us.” Tom narrowed his eyes. “Just let it be. I’m the one that has to listen to it, not you.” 

She ignored him. “Edgar, what do you think?”

The Hufflepuff looked torn between the two of them. Usually the peacekeeper he seemed to know that no matter what he said in this setting it would be unfavorable. He looked between them and sighed deeply. 

“The adults are better suited to look into the dangerous parts of this, but if it’s calling for you Tom we should probably be a bit more aware…I’m not saying we follow it, just narrow it down like Myrtles saying and then turn it over. No exploration in pipes, no trying to talk to it. That sort of thing.” 

Whoever said that Hufflepuffs could not be political were wrong. Edgar played that very well so it was almost like it was cut down the middle. He would continue to investigate, but only in theory and a safe manner.

“Theorizing is fine, I suppose.” Myrtle sighed. “So do you think the true heir is a Gryffindor, that the snake wanted Dumbledore, or that the chamber of secrets is on that hallway somewhere?”

And there she went jumping back into everything.

They pulled out the map again looking at the hallway that Tom had heard the snake and they were able to trace its path from the dungeons up to the next floor and back down again. 

“That hall has Dumbledore’s office but it also has 2 bathrooms.” Edgar tapped the map. 

“If there was an entrance to the swears then it is most likely there.” Myrtle smiled widely.

“No.” Tom reminded her. “We're not going to explore pipes remember.” 

“I’m not going to go into the pipes. I just want to see if there really could be some secret entrance in the girl's bathroom. It would be ridiculous but a pretty good hiding place for it.” She stood up and Edgar grabbed her arm. 

“Don’t go looking for trouble.” Edgar pleaded. “It wants to kill Muggleborns right? Don’t give it an easy target.” 

“Fine.” Myrtle sighed, “I won’t.”

Tom didn’t have to look in her eyes to know that she was lying.

~/*\~

Evening post brought more bad news, the store had been attacked. At least his mother had the decency to tell him this much. She sounded like she was fine and didn’t want to make a big deal over it. But Tom wasn’t sure if it was really just something that was minuscule or if there was something that actually had happened that was worse like maybe she had cut herself on the glass or one of the Vampires had been burned. They didn’t particularly do well when it came to fire. 

And it really didn’t matter if it was just the smashing of windows. Tom was not stupid enough to believe that would be the end of it. He knew that if they did not get the result that they wanted that they would try more desperate measures and he did not want to think about that. Tom wished that Dumbledore would get his act together and actually do something about his old friend Grindelwald because he was sick of living his life under the fear that something would happen. 

The evening papers mentioned the attempted break-in, he was sure of it because his housemates, the ones that did not like him, were looking at him as he tried to focus on his reading. He had the Daily Profit in front of him and he, like Dumbledore, attempted to see if he could connect anything to the madman that was still terrorizing Germany. He almost cursed the person that poked him expecting it to be Abraxas telling him something along the lines of his mother deserved worse but it was Edgar. 

He took a few seconds of air to let his magic settle. He really hated to be snuck up on. Everyone knew it too. 

“Myrtles not here,” Edgar said quietly.

Tom looked across the tables hoping but knowing that he was probably not going to see her if Edgar didn’t. There was no sign of miss matching brown-haired pigtails with different width and height. 

Godric damn it all. 

He took in a slow breath. “She better be in the library.” 

Edgar nodded and they both excused themselves from dinner. Edgar by saying goodbye to his few Hufflepuff friends and Tom by giving one of the few people he could stand a quick glance over and leaving the paper from the day with them if they wanted to read it. 

They checked the library first and then made their way to the 2nd-floor bathroom between Gryffindor tower, the transfiguration classroom, and Dumbledore’s office. 

“What if she isn’t in there.” Edgar’s face heated slightly, “I mean there would be girls in there doing… you know…” 

Tom rubbed at his face. Yes, there could be people using the restroom. Why did Edgar have to put that into his head? 

“Do you think we should wait and catch one of the passing girls and just ask them to see if she is in there. Tell them that she went in a long time ago and were a little worried about her?” Edgar continued.

“Probably a good idea.” Tom agreed. 

They did manage to catch a Griffendor, she did not seem to like stopping her way back from her dorm but agreed nonetheless to check. She came back almost as quickly as she had gone in. 

“Your friend is in there, but she is acting weird.” The girl straightened her uniform and it was damp and she looked very unhappy about it, “she might need the infirmary or something. She seems to have smashed the sinks. One of you should get a perfect too, someone has to fix the mess...” 

Edgar wasted no time just charging into the bathroom after that before even Tom could say anything. It was no doubt that the hat had considered placing him in Gryffindor before Hufflepuff with the speed that he tore into the bathroom.

“Hey!” The girl cried out.

There was the sound of the sinks running, dripping and the bathroom was wet as if a pipe had burst and Myrtle was mumbling on the ground her wand was raised but she had her eyes tightly shut. His chest suddenly felt really tight as he entered further into the bathroom. It was almost as if there was pressure there. 

He looked at her and Egar that had reached her first. 

Tom drew his wand, not knowing her reasoning, but didn’t want to be caught unprepared. 

“Myrtle what happened?!” Edgar demanded. 

She opened her eyes, her brown ones looked into Edgars and she reached a trembling hand up and grabbed onto him. She pulled him down to her level and just hugged him sobbing loudly and seemed to be trying to make her voice work. 

“It… It... It’s here.” she managed.

Tom felt that horrible pressure on his head again. There was a sound coming from the sinks. It was calling out to him, he could see himself in the reflection of the large mirrors, and could see behind him his friends. But for some reason, he did not make a move to go to them. 

“What is here Myrtle the snake?” Edgar’s grip on her tightened, he could see it in the reflection. But it was almost as if the frantic and loud voice of Edgar was staticed. 

There was something being spoken over the top of the noise. 

**come.**

It was a simple word but he felt his wand loosening in his hand, and he moved a little forward. He could hear Edgar saying something but he wasn’t sure what it was. He looked over at him in confusion and felt the other holding onto him. It pulled him from whatever it was that was compelling him to get closer to the sinks that were flooding, the water reaching over the sink's capacity. 

He could see it now, a hole in the floor, a deep hole that was on the floor, almost like a shoot that went into the dark. That was there there was a loud hissing. 

**Come.**

It was more forceful, but Edgar was holding him from moving forward any farther. 

“Tom it's a Basilisk.” Edgar gripped him harder. 

Tom tightened his grip on his wand. 

**COME.**

~No.~ He told it bitterly. There was no way that he was going down there. 

**You Must.**

He took a step back. He took another and then another. Edgar made it possible to move away from the hole. A large snout could be seen now and Tom shoved Edgar away from it as the rest of the head made its way out of the hole. The large scales puffed out as Tom came face to face with the Basilisk. He heard Myrtle scream as he looked away from the large yellow eyes. He should have been dead but for some reason he was fine. But Edgar was on the floor and while he was still breathing he seemed unable to move. He had seen the reflection of the thing. 

He wasn’t dead but that did little to help his nerves. He didn’t understand it but he didn’t want to risk her actually looking into its eyes. 

“Myrtle shut your eyes!” Tom commanded. 

He didn’t know what he could do but it was looking at him, it made no move to come out further. 

**Come.**

It repeated itself. And it's horrible jaw opened with the words that it spoke. It smelt of decaying meat and Tom nearly gagged as the smell didn’t seem to dissipate. He held a hand over his mouth choking down the vomit that threatened to come up. It had rows and rows of sharp teeth and a large tongue that flicked in and out of the gaping hole. It was huge and even as it was just the head, Tom knew that there would be at least 60ft of body behind it. 

Tom took another step back raising his wand. Still clutching at the bottom of his face as if that could help with the stench. He knew a few spells that could be useful but nothing that would kill it for sure unless he somehow could pull off the killing cures. And that was if its hide was not thick enough to send spells deflecting backward. 

~Why do you want me to come with you.~ He stalled hoping that someone would come, someone would get help. 

**You are true Heir**

It spoke again and Tom held his breath as it did so. He could not breathe when he did that. It was horrible. Just horrible. His eyes still watered. 

~What does that mean.~ 

**Come. Show.**

The snake started to retreat a bit back into the hole that it had come from. When it noted that he was not going to follow it. It gave another very low hiss and almost like it was going to carry it’s young snatched him up with its mouth. He dared not to move, knowing that there were lots of teeth to the thing and that some of them would contain venom.

He was brought how far down into the depths he was not sure it was dark and he held desperately to his wand as it would be the only thing that would save him. He would get out of this. 

The snake did place him down in front of a grand door, gently for such a large thing. It had many serpents on it. And words that he could not read. Many ruins were carved along the cave-like walls. They were in those caverns that he had heard about that lingered under the school. The way behind him must have been full of miles of tunnels, he was sure that if he were to try to run that the snake would find him, but if he did manage to lose it, which would be a near-impossible task considering how he had seen Shani hunt down even the most persistent of prey. He would for sure get lost. 

His steps crushed something and he looked under his feet and he could see thousands of bones, bones of everything they were all different sizes, thickness, and as he moved he found himself sinking slightly into the remains. The bones under his feet, cracking and scattering around him. There was water under here about ankle deep, wet and dark. The air itself was painful to breathe, as it was both putrid due to the decaying bodies that he was making his way through and because the cave was musty. He wondered just how much stagnant air was available. 

The only light came from the door that seemed to have a fire that was enchanted to never go out around the entrance. He moved closer to it, trying to get away from the sheds of skin, and the thickness of bones. The door being located on a slight incline left it relatively free of the corpses. 

**Open it. Command it. Been so Long since I have seen it.**

The snake moved its massive body near him, he could feel the scales brush against him. It was taller than he was, it must have been six feet around the middle. It guided him closer and he didn’t know what else to do but he noticed the human skull that was closest to him and did as he was instructed. 

~Open~ He said loudly and with confidence that he did not feel. 

There was a rumbling that felt as if there would be a cave-in with the action. The snakes on the door started moving, one twisted its way across the frame and the others pulling back from the frame. The large monstrosity next to him seemed pleased. 

**Yes. Truly a strong decedent. Yess. Yesss.**

It nudged him closer to itself. Rubbing its large head against him. He knew from Shani that it was a snake's way of being friendly. Its scales were rough and he was sure that if he was to place too much pressure rubbing it the wrong way that it would slice into his fingers. This creature though, he felt something for it. Disgust for sure, but almost as if he had met it before. Those large yellow eyes looked at him and he could see the slit of the pupil showing just how dangerous and poisonous it was, but like a cat, it seemed very interested in him. 

The door opened and they stepped into a large hall there were large serpent statues that reached toward the ceiling, pillars of weaved snakes made of stone that seemed to be enchanted to move and watch him. They all have those harsh yellow eyes that seemed to glow. Large basins of fire lit themselves. Along a narrow path that dropped off into water that had things moving around in it. Things that he did not know what they were. They could have been fish but he was not going to get closer to the black water to see what lurked beneath. The walkway seemed to lead to a statue of a man that was at the very end of the path. The way that the base was created it was meant to almost be a throne. To the sides of it, there seemed to be an indent that might contain a door. The tile floor was damp. His shoes squeaked against it. 

And he did his best to take calm breaths, snakes could always sense fear. The basilisk hissed with pleasure, as the snakes seemed to acknowledge him. Twisting more to watch from each pillar that he passed. He looked behind him again and could see the large door shutting itself trapping him into this large hall. The click of the lock was heard. 

~Where are we?~

The large snake bowed its head lower trying to get closer towards his ears. He hated that snakes liked to do that. 

**Master’s chamber. He commanded it be protected and I have protected it against all that are unworthy to enter its halls.**

~If they are not worthy, did you eat them?~ 

**Some, Some looked at, Some just bit and watched bleed.**

It was honest if that was something. 

~And you believe me to be a descendant of your Master.~ 

**Only the true heir is able to enter. I have searched between my many periods of sleep. When I smelt the blood of ones that were related to the Master, I would wake and search. Some have been disappointing, unable to hear my voice, or don’t have the magical capability to succeed him. I shall only obey those that are strong.**

Tom could believe that the XXXXX monster was intelligent and probably several centuries old. It could not be tamed, it had to choose someone. And so it must know that he was a powerful wizard. The wandmaker had told him as much. The teachers told him he was gifted. And he never completely believed it beyond his own hard work. But this proved that there was something very special about him. But who was this master was it Slytherin or someone that predated him? It was said that the snake could live long amounts of time. But he did not know how long that really was and it was debated in the few books that there were. 

~Tell me more of your Master.~

**Master was descended from the man that created new forms of magic, dark may it so be. The first of us was hatched by him and he stole a most precious gift from the goddess herself to speak to us. Meretseger of Egypt would not teach him it. She believed him to be unnatural. She was a healer, a seer, and bestowed it only to those that she believed would heal. The creator had split his soul. He was tainted by his dark magics. He had given that to the mother of snakes. I was born long after his demise. The Greeks were not kind to those that defied gods even those that were not their own. Slytherin hatched me, instructed me to guard Hogwarts. So I have.**

~What were his instructions to guard it against?~

They had come to the statue; it was massive and resembled he supposed Salazar when he was a younger man. It was embellished because the man that had been in the portraits in the castle, that didn’t move anymore didn’t capture something that looked this nice. 

He was not sure that he wanted to know, but if this was some sort of misunderstanding be it incredibly slim then there was a chance that the ancient beast might not have to die and he could get it to let him leave. 

**Master knew that there would be those that had tainted blood that would come to the school. They would betray just like those before them. Cause his kind to burn at stakes, that would hunt them, force them to use magic. He told me one day his true Heir would come. He would come and we would finish his work. We would get rid of those that would cause this.**

Yes, that was exactly what he feared the snake had encompassed him. It was massive and if it were to tighten the coils he was sure that he would be crushed effortlessly the only thing that was visible was those yellow eyes in the shadow that was cast. Its hood of scales were puffed out by its description, the green, and black meshing into a mask that hid its horrible mouth in the darkness. 

~Your information is a bit dated, they don’t burn witches anymore. At least not in Britain, we have become something of a legend. No one knows that we exist.~

**It doesn’t matter. If they find out they will do similar no matter what weapon they choose to use.**

It was true. There was always that risk that if Muggles found them out that they would kill them, massacre them out of fear it was only a matter of time before they invented something that could affect magic, or detect it. And if they could learn to break wards there would be nothing that Witches and Wizards could do. Shielding spells couldn’t block tank shots or bombardments by bombs. If there was a full out war on magical people Muggles would win, simply because there were too many of them. 

But even then it was wrong. It was very wrong. There was no way that he could conform to the snakes wishes to kill all the Muggle-borns. It would not only be impossible to do, but his friends were Muggle-borns. They were just as many Witches and Wizards as any that were pure or less. 

~Even then, there are too many to simply get rid of. Is not peace better?~ 

There was a horrid noise and it took Tom a moment to realize that it was laughing. The coils tightened slightly around him so that the walls were closer, the large head lowered again. Whispering in his mind and ear. The hot breath moving his hair back as it breathed. 

**I am not young like you, Nieve like you. I am a thousand-year-old; I know nothing of life but the despair, death, fear, and fatuous beliefs that peace is possible with Mud cast over an abyss of sorrow.**

The snake’s head was only a foot away. Its breath was harsh against him. Its eyes like that of fires that he could not look away from. He felt its power and he knew. He knew that if it wanted to it could kill him. Perhaps due to his bloodline, he was safe from its eyes but not those teeth, not the coils. Not its voice. 

**My Master knew their treachery well. They killed his kind, his sons, his daughters, and scattered them like insects. And I know peoples are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slaying one another. You will make it end. You will fix it.**

It’s hard nose nudged his face as if it was fond of him, for being stupid. For not understanding. It seemed to think that it could convince him. He was sure that anyone else in his house would have loved the idea of being chosen to clean up bloodlines and to become a great ruler. 

But not Tom. 

He did not want to rule over people's lives. The few people he knew were complicated enough. And he had been scared before but he was near paralyzed with terror now. It wouldn’t let him go of that he was sure. It needed him and wanted him to do what it asked. 

He felt very sick. 

~How?~ He was barely able to croak out. 

How was anyone to solve that? How was anyone to fix the wars that happened between muggles, Witches and Wizards, and those that fought amongst each other of their own factions? What could one do when witches fought witches?

Nothing could ever solve all of these things, no matter how one took power, no matter the solution there would always be those unsatisfied those that would press against it. 

**βασιλίσκος basilískos, "little king" That is what the name of me means, it is what Slytherin was, Be one like him.**

Slytherin was not a king, but he supposed he was a leader, a strong one. And the snake wanted him to be that way. Follow the work of those that were in his ancestry tree that he could no longer deny. 

~I know nothing about ruling.~ Tom knew very well that this thing was insane, but he was dead set in trying to get out of this mess. If he angered it there was no way that he would make it out of here. It was too big, too powerful. 

**Learn.**

It insisted. 

**You will learn. Read the book.**

It used its massive form to push him towards the statue, the base of it did have that indent and the door opened as the massive snake thrust him forward. He hid himself past the doorway knowing the monster could not fit, and while it could trap him in there it could not get to him any longer. 

“Lumos” He lit his wand. It was a study of some sort. There were a lot of books that he could feel the magic coming off of the cases. They were dark. He knew that. He could see the darkened trails that came off of it. He dared not to touch them. 

He lit the small candles by the desk. If there were any remnants of a soul of Slytherin down here it would probably want to possess him or something. 

“Okay think Tom. Think. How the hell are you going to get out of this.” He whispered to himself. 

The best way to kill it perhaps was to bring the cave ceiling down on top of them. It would seal the chamber and whatever the hell else was left down here. But there was a chance that would kill him. He slipped down the sidewall of the study. He was unsure what exactly to do about this. 

A Patronus could carry messages. It would find whoever he sent it to and the basilisk could not understand words, not in the native snake tongue. 

He just had to think of something happy. 

Right easy when his heart was threatening to beat out of his ribcage. 

He rubbed at his face. 

Okay, there were 3 options. One, bring the ceiling down on top of himself and the snake. Two, try to convince it that he needed to leave to think things over or leave for food or suspicion. Three, send a Patronus, which he hadn’t ever successfully cast. 

Looked like 2 and 1 were the only options. 

He took a few deep breaths and nodded to himself. This was going to be the dumbest thing that he had ever done in his life. 

Godric have mercy. 

He stepped out of the study and came face to face again with the large snake.

 **Did you find the Journal?.**

The snake lowered itself. Tom wondered if that journal would possess him or something. He just nodded his head.

The snake hissed again to itself, something that he could not make out. 

~I need to head back before I am missed.~ Tom said as strongly and confidently as he possibly could. 

**When will you return?**

It spoke as though it was lonely and it probably was. It was probably half-mad and starving in the darkened caverns but that didn’t mean that he wanted to give it the company that it wanted.

~Between classes~ He said again just as carefully. 

It started to move again towards the great door and it opened for it and Tom followed it. The bones again were under feet. 

**Call for the stairs**

It instructed him. 

~Stairs.~ 

The place rumbled again and there was a spiral staircase of stone that formed, the blocks each pulling out from the wall and stacking over each other and to an exit. 

He took a couple of steps up there was no way that he could let anyone come back down here. Those books were cursed, there were things that were made just to kill and the guardian was out of its mind. He raised his wand and seemed to sense that something was wrong. The snake let out a very low warning hiss.

 **You do not carry the Journal.**

Shit. There was nothing else that he could think as the large tail sent him flying back into the staircase that he had called. His head smacked against it hard and the air all of it left him. He coughed and blood dribbled out of his mouth as he crumpled to the ground. The room was spinning and he was gasping in air. it was much like the strangling feeling that he had with the fungal spores, feeling like there was no way to force enough air in. 

The basilisk was not looking at him. It was ranting to itself. The voice almost cutting into his skull. 

**Should have known, the Guants were always deceitful, traitorous, refused to follow the noble cause. Only interested in stealing knowledge and building pipe ways. The Master's house has truly fallen.**

The tail wacked against the walls and the stones above them shifted overhead. Tom forced his hand to pick up his white wand again. His finger hardly curled around it before those yellow eyes were on him again. It was a mess of shadows Tom forced himself onto his feet. He could feel the hot liquid dripping down the back of his neck. He held his middle feeling like there had to be more cracked than just his skull. 

His wand wavered in his hand and he pointed it at the ceiling, coughing out. “Oppugno" and swishing his wand to the side. 

The skeletons and other rocks crashed into the snake. It twisted around more annoyed that it was flying at its face than hurt by it, as Tom forced himself to lean against the wall taking shaky steps up them. There was no railing and he didn’t want to fall. The stairs wobbled in his vision and he poked the next with the tip of his toes to make sure that it was actually there. 

His vision was swimming with each painful movement and hiss from the snake, making him want to just break out and cry from the pressure. 

And each breath was painful, burning, and he could hardly feel his chest contract with each breath. 

The basilisk did not want to give up that easily. It pushed against the stones that made up the stairs and they shook. He nearly fell as it tried to get to him. He braced himself against the wall. Its large mouth opened to snap at him. He could see parts of its last meal clinging to its sharp teeth. He pointed his wand again and shot a harsh stinging hex at its face, it didn’t seem to matter. Confirming that its skin was too thick. He hit it again this time into those large eyes with the curse that he knew he shouldn't use. 

"Crucio." 

It thrashed and Its face was getting closer. Snarling in a way that was very unsnake like and even more animalistic than before. It would kill him. It would really kill him. 

He coughed again, blood dripping down his lips. “Deprimo.” 

it was his last play. 

The spell hit the ceiling and large chunks of brick, cave, and stair started to fall. It hit the monster, crashed down on its body and it roared again and banged its head against the wall in its desperate screehes and its jaws shut one last time as a large bolder chunk slammed into its head. 

Tom didn’t know where the strength came but he was able to force himself up the rest of the crumbling staircase and found himself exiting the area that was by the dungeons. The ground was still shaking and parts of the dungeons were swallowed by his latest attack. He didn’t have much time to think about the implications of this, such as who could have been down there, if people were okay or anything else. 

He just forced one shaky step after another toward the stairs that would take him to the infirmary. 

He grit his teeth tasting the blood. He held even tighter to his middle putting as much effort as he could to stay on his feet. 

This was not how the great Tom Granger would die. 

He refused. 

He would not die because an overgrown garter had decided to flick him into a wall. 

No.

He swallowed thickly. 

He couldn't see anymore, the darkness and lights were stretching too far. He collapsed onto the stone floor and passed out on what was hopefully solid enough not to plunge him back to below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes about the chapter:
> 
> *I always believed that Parseltongue had Egyptian roots until it somehow assimilated itself in ancient Greece, because there was an Egyptian goddess with a cobra's head named Meretseger, and I believe she gave the gift of Parseltongue to certain Egyptian wizards and witches and taught them the language and helped them establish its magical properties. And if there were Parselmouths that were South American, Indian, and Native American, they might be revered as healers and/or seers, highly contradicting what most British wizardkind believe based on it being condemned as a sign of "dark forces."
> 
> * The great wizard mentioned that created the first basilisk is a cannon person hinted to be possible relation to Slytherin. His name is Herpo the Foul, he was a terrible dark lord from Greece that rumor has it created the first Horcrux. I though bent his story a tad. (Just due to personal preference.) 
> 
> * Corvinus Gaunt has possibly opened the chamber before and was the reason that it was not discovered due to him planning most of the plumbing the school currently has. It is hinted that he did hate muggle-borns but didn't want to be the one responsible for bringing about a great amount of death.
> 
> * It is said that 4 things that a basilisk from folklore it can use to kill a man are its breath so foul that it makes plants rot, it's sight looking into eyes is enough to kill anything even itself, a venom so great that a few drops were rumored to be enough to kill someone from even a few feet away, and lastly its voice. If one were to listen to it talk they would go mad, or die. J.K included only some of these into her rendition. :D 
> 
> And so here lies Tom with the knowledge that he is a Gaunt.. ( ⊙︿⊙✿)


	24. Part XXIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have tissues for those that need them.

The air was thick with the smell of gaze, potions, and magic. Hermione knew the smells well. She knew the sounds of the clanging of pipes and the wheeling of carts. She had spent far too much time after the war in places like this and would be spending more of it in the coming months if she did the volunteer work that she was planning to. She listened to Tom’s breathing and tried to drown out all the memories of the past that seemed to be gliding around her with every turn of her head, and every squeaky cart. 

Hermione believed that the universe had finally done what it had promised everyone and delivered her a sense of Karma. She had put her parents through insane worry. First-year with the troll and the philosophers stone business, the next by being petrified, third by having a possible murder stalking her school, and that was all just in the first 3 years and what she told them. She had never talked about the werewolf chasing in the woods or that Lord Voldemort had been on the back of a professor's head. Yes, Karma had decided that she would have just as many scares with Tom as her son. Or he just had an infinity for danger like she did. She was sure that she was a magnet to the stuff. 

Now as a mother herself she could not really blame Molly Weasly when she was trying to keep them out of some of the meetings and other things. She had just wanted to protect them, even if the protection possibly had caused them to walk into things because they did not know the correct facts and the know how to assess the situation. Serius’s death might have been avoided if they had been properly filled in and Dumbledore just trusted Harry enough to get him a proper teacher to teach him to block his mind.

But she now wondered if her own meddling had caused this. She had never told Tom about the possibility of the chamber, his ancestry, or the truth. She even now couldn’t. She didn’t think that she would ever be able to. How could she tell him that she had come back in time to kill him? That he in another time and place was the Dark Lord that she had nightmares of, and had killed thousands. It would confirm that fear that he had not so very long ago that there were ways in which to go bad. 

No, she would never tell him that exactly, but she possibly could have told him that he was adopted. Told him about his real mother and her family. About snakes and a possible basilisk but even now she didn’t want to do that. She knew that he would want to seek them out and she knew why. It was only logical that a child would want to know the family that they had. Even if disappointment would lay in wait for him should he go that way, and like any good mother she wanted to protect him. She didn’t think that Tom would kill them. He wasn’t remotely that person anymore. But there was a chance that it could get ugly. She never knew exactly why he decided to kill them. Perhaps it was jealous of their nice lifestyle or it was because they abandoned him. She would never know but she doubted that her Tom would be capable of it.

He had been out for a few days now. He had a list of injuries too vast to mention. She had practically marched to the school when she had heard. Was ready to tear the chamber apart in order to find him. She had acquired a mirror and a rooster and was ready to head down there. Only to find that her Tom had been found in the remains of the dungeon. Bleeding out and possibly on the verge of death. 

Myrtle had been in hysterics. She hadn’t meant to, not really. She had thought to find the entrance and then report on it. She had been trying to hiss like Tom did and apparently mimicked it enough to open the thing. It had been after that the snake broke the plumbing tying to get closer to the opening. She had shut her eyes when she had seen a bit of green, knowing what it was. But fearful to draw it’s gaze her way. Edgar would need to be un-petrified and Myrtle was currently at Hogwarts no doubt still wailing that it was all her fault. 

Hermione was not sure what the school planned to do about her role in everything. Dippet had been furious and his anger was probably only rivaled by her own. Hogwarts was supposed to be safe and they had a snake running around in the pipes. A snake that Dumbledore had been informed of by Tom. 

She shut her eyes tightly and breathed in and out to calm herself. 

There were lots of places to shift blame. She did not know exactly where to lay it. But she knew that expelling Tom was exactly what Dippet wanted to do. Right now it had partially succeeded. He had the paperwork filed and the only thing stopping him was Dumbledores emploring that they at least get Tom’s side of things. 

It had been Tom that had fought the snake and caused a good portion of the school's foundation to fail. They had been lucky that no students were killed, injured sure, some about as badly as Tom. But Tom probably didn’t have a choice in the matter and Dumbledore kept trying to reason that it had been a life or death situation and of course Tom had tried to live. 

She was grateful that Tom was a fighter. She did not care if he was kicked out of school. There were other ways to receive an education and she was sure that there would be people lining up to do so. He was the true heir of Slytherin and he was powerful enough to slay the beast. All that mattered to her was that he was alive. Figuring everything else out came later.

She held onto his hand lightly. She couldn’t do much with his hair for the bandages around his head. But she did brush back the larger strands that strayed when he would move ever so slightly in his sleep. Hermione was here at the newly furnished hospital St. Mungos. She had been there since she was told that he would be moved to a more advanced healer. She didn’t leave long, only when staff practically forced her to. 

He would recover and there was no doubt about that. He was only out because his magic had been low from whatever he had tried in the Chamber before they had tried to force magic to heal him. It was so much worse than that summer. She would have given anything to take his place though. 

The last thing she wanted was to see him like this. And she prayed quietly that she would never have to see anything like it again. The universe had gotten its karma by this point surely there was no more need to put her through any of these scares, or Tom through the trauma of it. 

~/*\~ 

The sounds were loud around him. It was as if there was nothing but echoes in his head. He felt so tired that keeping his eyes open was nearly an impossible task. He could see through the haze a familiar figure that he had seen only once before the forest spirit was looking at him, with deep brown eyes, and hair that could have served as a nest. Her hand was warm. 

She was as beautiful as he remembered her, though there was no sound that he could make. His throat was too dry and his eyes too hard to keep open. 

When he awoke again there was no one there. There was a small white curtain that blew with a slight breeze through a cracked window. The slight draft was colder but it made the room feel less warm and less stuffy. 

He felt like he had been crushed by a bulldozer as he had been inclined to look up the contraption that Edgar mentioned. Maybe heard of them because he was nearly unable to move with how soar he was. 

The healer must have been alerted somehow, though he was not exactly sure how. She came quickly with a tray of potions and water. 

“It is so very good to see that you are awake. I will send your mother an owl shortly.” She nodded to herself, her wild black hair was bouncing with the movement. It was hardly contained by the ribbon that was in her hair. 

“Where is my mother?” He asked quietly after taking a sip of the water, his throat still felt sore and hard to use.

“I suspect that she is back at Hogwarts fighting with the headmaster, or at home resting. It is possible that she has not slept in days. She sure looked like it. She was very interested in all of our tests and double-checked everything, young sir.” She handed him a small vile. “Take this one now. It will help with the head pain.” 

He didn’t have to be told twice. His head really was throbbing. “Fighting with the headmaster?” He finally asked because he didn’t know exactly why she would be doing that and was too tired to put much effort into trying to think about it. 

“I don’t know much about it.” The woman paused before continuing. “But she was arguing with one of the professors that came to visit quite viciously. Something about how she refuses to accept a whole semester suspension as a compromise of expulsion. It is not exactly my business, but they were pretty loud.” 

Tom was surprised that he didn’t feel too much about that. Beforehand he would have been panicked about not being able to attend school. He had only been fearful of it when he had broken Abraxas’s nose. Now that he had almost died in the caverns under it, he was not exactly thrilled with the idea of returning. He would have to get used to being in the place again. If he was accepted back. 

“Are my friends okay?” He asked because he couldn’t help it. He didn’t care for much but he would settle with the knowledge that they were alive. 

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “You should rest though, when you wake again I am sure that your mother will be here and able to answer your questions far better than I.” She left him another glass of water and promised to be back later with food. 

He settled back to laying down. The motion was not exactly pleasant but he was sure that it would feel better when he woke. 

~/*\~

When she saw brown eyes looking at her, she smiled largely. “Hello there, Tom.” 

He looked at her with puzzlement, before there was a hint of a smile. “Back from yelling at my professors?”

His voice was hard on the ears, cracking and not the usual smooth one. 

Her smile faltered a little. “I was not exactly yelling at them. I was more vocalizing loudly my displeasure in their handling of school safety, and their disciplinary practices. It is hardly your fault that there was Basilisk in the plumbing and that the Chamber of Secrets was opened.” 

She frowned as she noticed the way that he winced as he sat up. 

“Am I expelled?” He asked, taking the conversation towards the more serious element. She was hoping to avoid that for a little bit but she supposed that gossip spread no matter the place when it came to her life. She was surprised that someone from the daily profit wasn’t stalking her at this point. What a story it would be. Hermione Granger vs the Hogwarts. 

“I managed to talk them out of that. They want to suspend you for a few months though.”

“There are only a few months left in the school year.” Tom pointed out.

“Yes well, they are looking at about 2 months that give you a month to come back and complete your exams.” She sat up a bit straighter. “ Though you don’t have to go back if you don't want to. She swiftly added. 

“Not go back?” Tom blinked a few times. “Why would I not want to go back?”

He sounded near insulted that she had asked him that. But perhaps he had finally learned to like aspects of school. It certainly gave him time to himself and her a bit of freedom as well. But still, she decided to press the importance of the decision. He did not have to act brave and okay if he wasn’t. 

“You were nearly killed under the school.” Hermione pointed out. 

“I was nearly killed in our house by illness and near the Muggle town.” Tom countered. He didn’t seem that upset about it all. So perhaps he really wasn’t deeply bothered by the fact that he had done what seemed impossible. 

“That may be true…” She started. 

But Tom cut her off. “How are Myrtle and Edgar?”

She was not exactly glad to have the topic changed the way that it was but she could understand that perhaps that was what needed to be settled first. Understanding just how extreme the situation was. 

“Edgar is going to receive treatment as soon as possible, they need to have fresh mandrakes for the potion to revive him. They should be ready within the month. Myrtle is facing an in-school suspension for her role in it all. I know that she is deeply sorry if that is a consolation.”

“I told her not to get involved with it. She didn’t listen and because of her, I was forced to fight… and both Edgar and I could have died.” He didn’t look too happy with that fact but then sighed deeply. “I suppose that it is my fault in a way, I told them I was hearing a voice and then went along with their scheme to figure it all out. I could have told the adults sooner, or warned them to watch Myrtle that night.”

“Things could have been handled differently, true, but the fact remains that you all are young and sometimes one can’t picture all the consequences for their actions. I know that better than most. I made quite a lot of mistakes in my youth.” 

Tom bit his lip. “I don’t really feel much about the possibility that we could have died. I didn’t feel bad that Myrtle was crying, I didn’t want her to die, but I didn’t feel anything for the distress that she was in. And even now I don’t feel much. Is that normal? All I thought about was as long as they didn’t die I don’t care…”

“It happens sometimes yes with war, and in hard situations. The feelings may come later when you have processed it better.” Hermione didn’t know if they would for him. His feelings had always been muted, at least he did care enough for his friends that he didn’t want them to die, that was something at the very least. 

He nodded in acceptance of her words, his brown eyes looked away from her and towards the wall. “I had to blast the ceiling. The Basilisk wanted to kill me and it’s hide was too thick. There were no spells that worked on it. I knew what was above me and I brought it down crashing on top of it. It’s blurry all of what it said to me. But I know that it wanted to kill lots of people.”

He blinked a few times falling silent as if he was reliving the large thing coiling around him and threatening to eat him. Hermione did not want to imagine it. How terrifying it would have been. She had seen its corpse, she had seen its teeth. It must have been worse to hear it talking. 

“The dungeons sunk into the ground quite a bit. There were no fatalities, but there was extensive damage to the school and a few people's belongings went missing. The injuries were thankfully not bad. It could have been a lot worse if the monster were to get free. Regardless of what they think at the school. I am proud of you to have tried to stop it.”

She felt that it needed to be said because there would be a lot of backlash for this she was sure. There were going to be people that were very split. It was the case when she and her friends did things too. There were always going to be those that didn’t see the good in the situation. 

He smiled a little weakly. “Is Shani okay? She was in the dungeons.” 

“She is okay. I brought her home. I think she wants to see you, but I don’t speak snake.”

He stared off into space again reaching up a hand to his head. He gripped a little at the bandages. His breathing got a little harsher. But then he shook his head a little and whatever it was seemed to have passed. 

“We are related to Slytherin, somehow. The basilisk was telling me that it could smell it in my blood.” 

She did her best not to be impacted by that. “We had the suspicion of that.”

“No, it said…” He looked up, taking a very deep breath. 

And her heart speed was waiting for him to say something. But he didn’t. 

“It’s nothing...I am just tired.” He was lying but she didn’t press him. She didn’t know what he could have been told. 

“It’s okay, go back to sleep.” Is what she decided on. She put her hand on his arm. “You know that I love you.” She said quietly.

~/*\~

The words died on his tongue he didn’t want to say anything else so he nodded to her words. He didn’t want to think about it all. Because he could hear the words the snake was hissing in his head. The Guants had a very well documented line, he wasn’t sure where there could be any leaks to become down the line half-blood that his mother was or his father. It seemed that squibs were just killed and Tom could not picture a line coming from his father. His blood had to have been potent with the ancestry. 

He looked at her sitting there and studied her as he lay there resting. She didn’t look like him. She never had. The only thing that made him like her was his eyes. Her skin was slightly darker, it turned to the color of honey in the summer months, while he burned if he was outside too long. Her hair was frizzy, uncontrollable and his flat couldn't be fluffed even if he wanted it. His skin had no freckles, no marks, and both his mother and his father had them. The more he looked at himself the more he wondered and worried. Slytherin had long black hair, pale skin, darkened eyes. The Guants did too. 

_~~Should have known, the Guants were always deceitful, traitorous, refused to follow the noble cause. Only interested in stealing knowledge and building pipe ways. The Master's house has truly fallen.~~_

He didn’t look like the pictures of them completely but that was because the Guants were a family that were very inbreed. So much so that they were thought not to have as strong of magic because of it. Tom turned his head so that it faced the window. If he was related to them then at least he had kept up the tradition of disappointing basilisks. 

He didn’t know this feeling…

He didn’t like it either.

It was making his chest hurt. 

It was not exactly sadness, and it was not exactly anger. It was just hurt… that was the only way to describe it. It would explain some things though. It would explain his looks, it would explain why there were not many pictures of family in his house, it would explain why his mother was so worried about talking about the past and those that were in it. 

He didn’t doubt that things had happened to members of her family, friends, or that she had been in a war. She couldn’t fake the nightmares that he had seen the aftermath of. But it would explain why she was worried about him finding some things out. 

If she adopted him…

Then she really wasn’t his real mother…

She was just the person that took him in, raised him yes... But that was all. 

Why or how it came to be were still unknown and he felt that pressure building behind his eyes. 

He squeezed them shut and a few tears came out of them. 

Not because he thought that she did not love him… No, he knew that she loved him very much. But it made him wonder. It made him wonder what she saw in him to have chosen to raise him. How could one just go somewhere and pick up a baby, and decide that this was the one that they wanted?

He was someone that was powerful. He knew it now with the blood that ran through his veins, and because of the things that he could do even at a young age. Most accidental magic didn’t vanish, people, even when they were scared. But Tom had done that. He could speak to snakes and do the unforgivables at least the torture curse with the first try.

She had not chosen him for these things, his mother didn’t care much for power. She didn’t intend to use him for anything of that he was certain. Not with the way that she seemed to care for him. She loved him. Even if he was unable to tell her his feelings for her he knew that he had to have loved her as well. 

It was just he was something else…

He had thought perhaps when the snake had mentioned some of this that it made him special… but now he wondered if evil and power were just part of his tree. Perhaps he was destined to go wrong… even with pure intentions, he would end up no different than Slytrhin and the dark lord before him. It was not as horrible as when he was four, the idea of going wrong, but it still wasn’t something that he wanted. 

The question was should he ask her? Should he confront her and tell her that he knew that she wasn’t his real mother, that he was not her son. There was no blood that tied them…. 

Or should he just try to forget it… 

Just ignoring it was not something that was possible for him. If his fights with Abraxas was anything to go by. 

~/*\~

He was out of school for only a month and they had decided that he could come back sooner. But still, the month felt long. He did his work at the kitchen table and spent his time with Whimsy if his mother knew something was wrong she did not press it. He almost wished that she would. It was all burning inside of him. Knowing what he did he almost wanted that confirmation that no matter what he did that she still would love him, and now that he knew that he was adopted that she would never send him away…

Yes, he knew that it was a foolish fear. Every logical part of him screamed that she had hundreds of reasons in the past to have gotten rid of him and she hadn’t. It should be proof. If he killed someone, be it accidentally, and she covered for him. If he could do that and she didn’t give up on him there was very little that he could do to make her turn from him. 

Yet it was still a whisper in the back of his head. He couldn’t trust her completely and considering that she had always been the person that he completely trusted. Even if he knew that she would not tell him all the details, it felt like a betrayal. It was not just painful it was world-shaking, and he was not sure who to trust or talk to about this. 

Because he was slowly going crazy thinking about it. 

~/*\~

School had a frigid feeling in the air even if the weather was quite warm. It was like there was no escaping the eyes. His table was silent for a full 10 minutes when he sat down. The place felt empty as Edgar would not be revived for at least another week due to the maturing of mandrakes. So effectively he was alone on this side of the hall. Myrtle would probably try and talk to him later but till then he was effectively alone. 

“Is it true that you are the true heir of Slytherin?” One of the blacks spoke to him. He didn’t know this one's name. He was a small thing with black hair that was messy long. He must have been a first year. Tom never was one to pay attention to the sorting nor really people that didn’t involve themselves with trying to talk to him or his group. Especially those that were related to the 28 as they were the type not to usually want to associate with him.

“Yes and before you ask. I did really slay a basilisk by bringing the whole castle down on it.” Tom tapped his plate with his fork. Why did he have to dropped off before afternoon classes started? 

A few of his housemates had turned at this. 

He sighed knowing it was coming.

“Do basilisks talk?” 

There it was.

“Yes.” He reached up and felt the slight scar that was hidden under his hair. “They talk too much.” His voice hardened a little. 

The threat seemed lost to them. They were not going to allow him out of this one. They bombarded him with questions until he left the table to hide at the only place he knew the 3rd-floor window. He caught his breath there and relaxed against the pane. He didn’t like being in the spotlight. He wanted to matter to others sure, it helped one to gauge success, and being appreciated was another thing that he strove for. He just didn’t like people endlessly wanting to talk about something that he hated.

He didn’t want to be here suddenly. Being at home even if it was tense with knowledge that he was adopted was better than this…

~/*\~

“I am really sorry.” Myrtle found him in the medical ward. Tom had been reluctant to visit Edgar. Waiting till the day’s classes were over and skipping dinner in order to do so. “I did this… no matter what anyone says.”

He looked at her and she looked just about ready to cry. Her big brown eyes were red as she had probably been crying for weeks. “You were hurt…because of me. You and Edgar could have died. And I wasn’t even hurt.” 

She was now starting to sob those awful chest wrecking sorts. She was grabbing at her chest and she was hardly standing there. She looked like she wanted to just collapse down to the floor. 

He took a big breath. Nothing he said really would have fixed it. But he didn’t want her to keep crying. He could be mad at her, but he really wasn’t. He had missed her letters. He missed both of them when he was home. 

Yes, she had been stupid and she had been foolish but she still did care about them. She was trying her best to apologize and he knew that she was sorry.

“You are stupid.” He stood and pulled her into a hug. It was what Edgar would have done even if it was not like him to do this, to show affection he knew that she needed it. She hugged him back tightly as if she was scared that he would disappear. And Tom let her rest her head on his shoulder. 

“I know.” She sobbed. 

“I’m okay and he will be too, you know.” Tom glanced at her, patting her back with awkward thumps. “So you should stop this foolish crying.” 

She actually laughed a little at that. “I should.”

She held on a second longer and dried her face with the sleeve to her robe. 

~/*\~

He spent time after defense classes practicing some of the spells that he missed. Galatea Merrythought was very insistent that he get them down, for the upcoming exams. He practiced the stupid movements until his hand hurt and then for the next after class practice, she decided that he was good enough to try some of them out. 

She brought out a large wardrobe. 

Tom could feel something dark residing in it that must have been the boggart.

“Just as we practiced,” Merrythought instructed her wrinkled face showing exactly no emotion. “The wand movement will not be enough, you have to think of something humorous to help to rectify it.” 

Tom held his wand tighter feeling that a giant snake was on the other side and he would turn it into a noodle or something. 

But no that was not what he saw when the door opened. It was his mother she pulled herself out of the wardrobe with an ease to the movements. Almost that perfect way that she did things. She had always been powerful and he had only seen her angry on a few occasions. Her hair was frizzy and her eyes wild. 

But she did not scream at him like expected. She dribbled over slightly as if she was in pain at her chest. As if she had been hit with a powerful curse. 

“You did this....” She shook her head, tears coming out of her eyes. “I can’t love someone like you anymore..” 

She would never say that...But it even sounded just like her. He raised his wand and tried to think of something that would make it humorous. 

“You have done horrible things.” Her head tilted the way that it did when she was trying to stop whatever she was feeling and be strong, or defiant. “I don’t want you anymore. I have to send you back...” 

He hated crying. He didn’t think he feared that, but rather the disappointment that her voice seemed to bring, and the heartbrokenness. 

“Riddikulus” He spat at it. The boggart turned into a small snake in a sweater that made him smile slightly. 

He was glad when it was over and the thing was back into its wardrobe. He sat in the desk that was closest to him. Staring at the worn thing in disgust.

Merrythoughts wrinkled face was hard to read. “I was not expecting that, I will be completely honest with you.”

“I thought that it would be the basilisk too.” He gripped his knees. “Or my friends dying in the war.” 

“Fears change by the stress that we are under and our experiences. It is a common fear for a lot of students that one or more of their parents are unable to accept that they are a Witch or a Wizard. But if your greatest fear is disappointing your mother to the point that she will never love you, know that for any true mother that is impossible. And I have met your mother Granger, there is no way that she will not accept you.”

He smiled slightly knowing that perhaps she had heard of the fire and fury that his mother seemed to be famous for a lion they called her for a reason. His smile fell through after a few seconds because he knew that this was overall pretty embarrassing if it was a test he would still see her take form, maybe he could silence it before it said anything come test day.

~/*\~

Edgar joined them in their usual spot only a week before finals. Tom had started to think that he wouldn’t see him up and about. He didn’t look that great but Tom was sure that was because he had been frozen for nearly 3 months. Myrtle nearly took him off of his unsteady feet as he laughed softly slumping against the brick wall.

“It’s so good to see you.” She was near choking him with her hug Tom could tell by the look on the others face. 

“He just got out of the hospital, don't put him back into it.” 

Edgar glanced at him thankfully. 

Myrtle let go. “Sorry Edgar, it's just I'm so glad that you're awake and moving around.” 

“I’m glad to be as well.” Edgar brushed back his longer hair. “Though I was for the most part awake. I could hear you both talking.” He paused for a brief second. “Well arguing mostly.”

“We were not arguing.” Myrtle gasped. “We were discussing course work.”

“If that's what you want to call it.” Edgar shrugged as he made his way closer to Tom and put his hand on his shoulder. “You really didn’t need to read to me you know. It was really sweet.”

His tone was grateful, but it just made Tom feel embarrassed that the other knew it was him doing that. He tried to brush his hand off his shoulder scowling a little. “It was not sweet, it was an attempt so that if you could hear things you would have at least had some entertainment.” 

Edgar gave him a look of I know you better than that. 

“The voices you made for the characters showed that you were going all out.” Edgar nudged him. 

Myrtle sat next to him as Edgar took the other side. “That is really cute, why don’t you read things to me?” she whined a little. 

“Because you were not petrified and he should have kept that to himself. Note the next time that someone is petrified I am reading them Magica Theory books.” Tom folded his arms. 

“Oh don’t be like that Tom.” Myrtle sighed leaning into him. 

Edgar smiled widely. “I mean it might make me smarter, so you go right ahead. I’ll be forced to listen that way and if it doesn’t help me learn anything then I can always fall asleep. Speaking from experience it was hard to sleep there and should there be another long period of hospital time I would appreciate it.” 

“You are not to get yourself petrified again. That was not an invitation.” Tom glared at him. 

Edgar held up his hands. “Not planning on it trust me.”

“Good.” Tom nodded in acceptance. 

“You know though, I wish I had stayed frozen because then I wouldn’t have had to take finals.” 

Myrtle giggled. “Don’t worry Edgar they probably are going to have you make up all the work before that.” 

Edgar groaned. 

~/*\~ 

Summer was rather peaceful even with that really unplaceable feeling sometimes randomly appearing when he was alone with his mother. He would sometimes catch her giving him glances and part of him would go on edge. 

He didn’t think that his boggart would ever come to fruition but it still bothered him. It also still bothered him that he didn’t know why his mother had chosen him. If he had any other family. He could have looked into the Guants further. Someone in his house probably would have had one of those books on them that had more announced who was to marry who. But he didn’t ask. Because he didn’t want to know… not really. 

The idea of it all was painful. 

He didn’t want to find out that there were others out there like him, that had not wanted him. His mother had said she held him a few hours after he was born, and he wondered if that meant that his mother was dead. That she had died somehow and his father hadn’t wanted him, or any of the other family. Wizarding families didn’t seem like the sort that really did that…but then maybe his mother hated him. Blamed him for existing. 

Maybe they were ashamed of him.

Maybe….

He didn’t want to think about it. 

He slammed his book shut, rushing outside to take his broom out for a ride, casting a disillusion charm so that he could go farther than the wards. He flew fast. Faster than he had ever dared to before.

He claimed the sky trying to go up higher and higher, he felt the pressure on the broom and the clouds were below him. It was so high that there were no birds and there was no sound. There was nothing but the sky and he leaned on the broom so that he could be looking up. The wind blew harsh against his face. 

He looked at the small houses below him, the fragments of farmland and the far off city that he could see the outline off. The sun was larger up there. It was brighter and warmer. He could feel the heat on his skin, feel it trying to burn him. But he stayed up there. He gripped the broom loosely letting himself nearly hang from it as he turned it upward and forced it to go down again a little. He hovered upside down holding with his legs and tightened his hands feeling the blood rushing to his head. 

Till he was dizzy with it. 

Till there was nothing that could be used to think and then he rushed the broom towards the ground, raced the wind currents so that he was nearly flying off of it with the speed he was barreling towards the ground with. He could feel his eyes watering at the wind that he made. The ground rushing up to meet him, the trees, and the grass and then he pulled up. 

Pulled up so that he would not smack into the ground. His heart was racing and his eyes still were watery. He rubbed at them with his sleeve. And then just like an idiot. He landed the broom, in a quiet field and started to let that terrible pressure behind his eyes build. He let it build until it burst and he found hot tears rolling down his face. He didn’t know if anyone could see him or not there. 

He just let the tears roll holding onto his skinny legs and burying his face in the crooks of his elbows. He hadn’t cried in a very, very long time. But it was as if his eyes were well and they just kept coming. 

He didn’t know if he cried because he felt alone in the world. 

He didn’t know if he cried because he was worried about what the future would bring. 

Or if it was because he knew that he was not a Granger. 

He didn’t know… he just didn’t know...

He didn’t have a reason to pinpoint but it was as if everything from the past few months had built up and decided that it needed to be released. And he sat there under a large tree long after his tears had dried and his eyes were still itchy. 

~/*\~ 

It was a hot day, the sort of day that blistered to be outside. Hermione hauled herself and Tom up in the house, where she could cast cooling spells to avoid the boiling heat. She had told her field employees that they could have the day off, as it was too warm for any reasonable person to be outside. 

The radio was going for most of the day. Hermione didn’t know what she was waiting for but it seemed that there was nothing good. Another country under fire in the Muggle world. Ukraine had just been invaded by the Germans. Ministry elections were postponed due to the Second World War; it was decent enough considering the current Minister at least didn’t hate Muggles. He might have seen them as less than Wizards but at least he was not trying to implement any policies that stopped people from marrying who they liked. But it had angered a lot of people that wanted to run for the position. 

Tom commented that they should be happy that Lestrange was not going to be minister any time soon. Considering the things that she had heard about him, she could not help be inclined to agree. 

“Miss, Whimsy has finished with dinner.” The old elf tethered a little on her old feet. Hermione had tried to convince her that she should use a cane to help her move around. But as of yet, she was not convinced. Hermione had a feeling that her elf was more stubborn than she was. And if she was calling someone stubborn it was like calling the ocean wet. 

They ate in silence. The wind was picking up outside. 

Hermione had attempted to bring up that Tom had been flying a lot more lately and if he was thinking about trying other broom games besides quidditch. But that had mostly ended in silence after a no. He had been very distant lately more so then he had been after he had found out that she was going to try dating. 

She frowned a little thinking about it. 

“Might be a storm.” Whimsy commented after they had been eating quietly for a while. 

“Maybe.” Tom poked a bit more at his food and then asked to be excused. 

Hermione nodded and he went upstairs Shani quickly following him out.

“Something is deeply bothering Master Tomas.” Whimsy folded her hands in front of her. 

“I know,” Hermione said softly. “I just don’t know what it is. I have a couple of guesses though, he had acted a bit off since the incident with the basilisk. But if I try to bring it up he gets upset with me.” 

“Even if he gets upset, I think that it is best that it is addressed, you both care for each other and right now you might be in each other’s space but you are separated. Both of you are suffering, it is almost painful to watch the lengths and hoops you both are jumping through not to step on each other's toes. I thought about intervening, but I think it would be better if you reached out than me.” Whimsy’s glasses were sliding down her long nose. 

Hermione held onto her after dinner teacup. She wrapped her hands tightly around it. “I don’t like the way things have been.” She admitted. “But I didn’t want to push him into any corners into talking to me about it. Perhaps it was also me selfishly wanting to avoid a confrontation.” 

“You can’t say that it hasn't been bad what you have been doing currently though.” Whimsy wisely nodded her head in understanding.

“No…” Hermione agreed. “I will talk to him later tonight about it.” 

The sun was setting and Hermione dared to step out onto her porch. She took in the evening air, it was getting dark. The sky was a mix of gray storm clouds with golden orange flecks from the fading light. She folded her arms and leaned against the wood to her home. She took in a few breaths slowly, noticing how her own chest rose and fell. She needed to just relax before she talked to Tom knowing that things could get a bit ugly if he tried to get out of the talk. 

She took another breath watching as the last bit of sun bleed out of the sky. She ran a hand through her hair and entered the house. Tom was in the living room busying himself with drawing something in one of his notebooks. 

“Tom.” She sat down next to him. “I really would like to talk to you.”

He looked up from what he was working on. Pausing in his work, the pen in his hand tightening slightly. Not a very positive start to everything.

“Can it wait?” He asked after a second of hesitation. 

“I think that it has waited long enough,” Hermione said softly, gently. “Something has been bothering you and I have been patient hoping that you would come to me with it, but I don’t know if it is because you don’t know how to talk to me about it, or somehow you are worried how I will react to it. But you could tell me anything and it wouldn’t change anything that I thought about you.” 

He opened his mouth like that day at the hospital and then he shut it just as fast. He seemed to be at war with himself. “I found out what my boggart was.” 

He said that carefully, guardedly. 

“And it was not a large snake I am guessing.” She watched him put down the notebook. 

“No.” He looked at her and she couldn’t read him. She couldn’t tell much about how he was feeling other than he was a little on edge. “You came out of the wardrobe.”

Being his worst fear was not something that she expected. 

“You looked like you were in pain and I caused it.” Tom looked away from her. “As such, you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” 

She reached out to him and she knew that he wasn’t big on physical contact, for whatever reason she couldn’t help that. She grabbed onto him and pulled him close. So close that she might be crushing him, but she didn’t care that much. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and just held him there. She could feel his picked up heartbeat and feel his slightly damp hair, as the house was still a bit warm even with cooling spells. He was getting so big that he was just about her size now.

“No matter what you do, I will always love you. And I know that you would never hurt me. I don’t know what to tell you to convince you.” 

She ran her hand through his hair absentmindedly and he sighed. “I believe you… It’s just a scary thought.” 

She then pulled a little back and smiled at him, a small warm one. “Nothing will take me away from you, let that be the promise that helps with that fear.” 

There was the sound of something loud, almost like thunder but not there was no light in the sky from the living room. 

She stood at once. Grabbing her wand as she heard the loud noise again. It was so loud that it shook the house slightly. 

“What is that?” Tom was up too, his wand drawn from the sleeve that he kept the practice wand in. 

“Someone’s putting a lot of magic into breaking my wards.” She made her way quickly to the backdoor. She could see the orange shimmer. There were a few dark-robed people at the edge of the property by the mailbox. 

There was another hard knock and the shield-like ward rippled and the sound of it pushed against the house and rustled the trees. It was as if there was a great storm outside but it held. She held her ground and so did the wards. Tom stood behind her. She could hear him letting out a hiss as he planted his feet to avoid the wind that was being kicked up. 

“Tom stay here. Even if we are safe that doesn’t mean the others across the road are.” She looked back at him. He had a hard look on his face. 

“No. I won’t let you go alone. Let me help.” He glared at her. He was clutching his wand tightly. He was looking much like Harry did when he was going to do something incredibly reckless and dangerous. 

“If those wards fall they will destroy our home. I need you to protect the house and whimsy and the others I will call here. I need to make sure the others besides the house elves make it out okay.” Hermione didn’t have time to fight with him. 

She started calling names to make sure that all the house elves were safe behind the thicker wards. 

Mox looked at her with frightened eyes. “It's all burning Mistress. The houses, the greenhouses, the fields.” The elf sniffled holding onto her robe.

“Tom will protect you. I will try to put out the blazes.” 

Tom looked like he just might kill her as the other elves hugged at him nervously, whispering about what was happening. 

She brushed Mox off of her and made a rush at her ward casting a quick disillusion charm. She stunned the closest one to her home, stupefying the other that was muttering some sort of spell to try and subvert the wards. With him knocked out and the other laying on the ground incapacitated she was able to see the flames that were burning higher and higher, the smoke made her eyes water and she had to push through the taller weeds to get to the farmhouse that she had made from the barn. It was worse the closer that she got. Large flames that looked like birds were flying over the fields bringing more and more sparks and flame with each flap of their magical wings. The spell was searching out anything living, and she had a flashback to the spell that had been used in the room of requirement. 

The fire was so hot there would be nothing left. The people responsible were running for it as they saw her. She turned her attention to trying to help those that didn’t have magic or were unable to conjure enough water that were trying to stop the flames from reaching them. She cast as many freezing charms as she could, one after another, putting as much water down that she could. Even casting magic that she knew to pull moisture from the air around her to make the blasts larger form the tip of her wand. 

It was almost no good at all. The night was a mess of red, orange, and yellow that was rising greatly. So hot and high were the flames that the forest that was behind them had erupted into flame as well, the living trees, cracking and glowing like torches in the night. Glowing with golden heat. The fields were smoking, and the ground was steaming. It was like there were rivers of fire flowing by. The barren places created were blackened and chard. 

She made her way outward into the fields, if the fire didn't kill her plants then the cold shock was going to. But she couldn’t let it keep burning. The wards were damaged and if the fire stretched further it would burn the Muggle’s fields and homes. It smelt horrid as she got closer to the greenhouses as if all the tools and the plastics had long been melted. 

There was an awful smell that rose above that. Something was crumpled in the corner and it looked to be a dog. But it was hard to tell the way that it almost looked mummified by the flames. She covered her mouth looking at it. It had long ago succumbed to either the smoke that was near choking or it was from the flames that licked at its fur. 

She could not take her eyes off of it. 

Screams, loud, and dying. Her wand loosened in her hand as it was a person in front of her. His red hair burning quickly, flesh melting, large hands reached for her. Blue eyes were distorted, wide horrified, the mouth open to tell her something. 

She fell to her knees. 

Ron… 

The screaming stopped with the sounds of someone calling her name. It was Oswin, he yanked her from the ground and out of the way of a spell. The stunner hit him in the chest for his effort, and Hermione worried to see one of the clocked arsines start to run. And she could see Tom running after him. The ground under his feet freezing as he went. 

She apperated Oswin behind her wards, leaving him with the elves and quickly tried to follow Tom but the fire had swelled up higher and there was no way to tell where he had gone. She gathered those that she could to help put out the flames even sending her Patronus with the call for help.

He just had to run off...

He couldn't for once just listen...

Please she thought please don't let anything happen to him. He's been through enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to try and get this thing out of my head and onto the paper. Which were 3-4 rewrites because I was so damn picky about dialogue and the flow of things. I think this chapter was one of the hardest to write, and my friend that tends to listen to me ramble told me, Dawn, its great just post the Damn thing. So here we are. 
> 
> I apologize if there are any errors, my arthritis has been really bad so I have not been as happy trying to type as I usually am and have had little desire to go over it a thousand times to check with all the rewrites that it went though being both mentally painful and physically. 
> 
> (✖___✖)


	25. Part XXV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here the next installment! 
> 
> ♥(´∀` )人(´∀` )

Tom took off. He could see the way that the fire was spreading. He could see the way that it was climbing higher and higher into the sky. The night was covered in dark clouds that were hidden under the puffs of smoke. Making it impossible to tell what was a cloud and what was burned chemical gas. He took the wands of the people by the mailbox. They were lucky that they were still too out of it so all that he could do to them was tie them down to the ground, with the practice wand. 

The second he saw the emblem on their robes of the blue binding fire. He knew who they were and since Grendlewald thought that he could interfere and actually attack Tom’s family then he had better know that he wasn’t getting away with it. Tom would make sure that his little followers never returned to him. That they rotted in Azkaban for their crimes, and he lost something for it. 

No one hurt what was his.

Everyone would know that. 

The wand resisted the darker spell as it was not made for it. But Tom forced it. He forced it to do his bidding. They would choke themselves before they would get out of that. He kicked the one that was stirring. He hoped that it hurt because he had never felt so angry. 

His whole body might as well have been on fire. He could feel it in his blood pumping hard, and his body shaking slightly with the need to use the stored up magic. He knew that he should stay put but there was a deeper part of him that knew that the wards would hold. That his true need was other places. And so he would make sure that anyone else that dared to do this would suffer.

He made his way through the burning grasses, they parted for him with a strong push of his hand. The path he made was of the only one that was not overly consumed with flames. To be safe he made a strong shielding spell so the fumes wouldn’t get to him. 

It was a mess. He had never seen such chaos, not even on the Quidditch pitch with Wolfberry had more organization. There were a lot of screaming people running around there were attempts of trying to water down the house and the sheds that were closest to the living areas. There was the smell of animals burning, singed fur. He wouldn’t ever forget that smell having burned a few of the mice that he had trained magic with. So it was not good enough to try to burn their home, they had to burn the pet cats and dogs? 

He took slow breaths because the air was hard to breathe and because he needed to calm down. But that wasn’t quite the effect that he achieved. If anything he just wanted to fight someone. He wanted to cross spells. 

His head had one idea when he saw one of Grindelwald's forces that was behind the others. Stop him. He was firing spells one of them would have hit someone that was one the ground perhaps hurt or losing it by the way that things seemed hopeless. He took after them, spreading ice with every step that he took. He could feel the frost forming down the length of his wand. It didn’t deter him. The cold against his fingers was nothing to the heat that was burning inside of him, and around him. 

He hit the person when they turned to flee into the woods. They crashed to the earth with the stupify. He could have done worse, but that was enough to expelliarmus their wand out of their hand and accioed it to himself. He was gaining quite the collection tonight. 

He locked him down similar to what he had done to the other stirring members of their group. The man was young, maybe in his early twenties. It seemed like such a waste. Tom held his wand in between his fingers feeling the wood. It was not like the practice wand. It did not resist him. It liked him. He could feel its hum. Yes, he had read that wands could change allegiance and it seemed it had. He wanted to test it. See if it would do what the other hated. 

The man groaned loudly as Tom poked him with the side of his previously owned wand. 

“So you’re one of Grindelwald's followers are you.” Tom met the man’s eyes. “Why did you join him, I wonder? Was it because you think Muggle-borns are less than you, that you could gain power, or because you thought that you were somehow special in this world and could profit off the misfortune of others. Let me guess it's some combination. ” 

“I’m not telling you, shit kid.” The man's lip curled, showing a missing tooth towards the front of his mouth. 

Of course, he wouldn’t want to tell him anything. There was probably a very real fear of death associated with it. But that really didn’t matter to Tom the way that he saw it not knowing things meant possible death for himself and those that he cared about or really liked so it was an easy bargain. 

Tom smiled slightly. “You say that now.”

He was sure that he could think of a few ways to have the effect. 

“I’ve seen fairies that were scarier than you kid. Your intimidation won’t work.”

“I’m not trying to intimidate you, nor am I threatening you. I’m merely telling you that you will tell me.” Tom tilted his head to the side. “You won’t have a choice.”

He put a little more pressure with the wand pressing down with his work boots onto the man's chest. 

“You are a kid, you're already facing expulsion by doing magic. Do yourself a favor and quit while you're ahead.” 

“I don’t fear explosion, nice for you to care for my education though.” Tom’s smile widened. “You see, I could gut you and I probably wouldn’t feel bad about it at all. Not much ever gets to me. I could do it with your own wand if you like. Makes it more or less untraceable to me. Who would think a kid like me would do that?”

The man was sweating now and Tom smiled a real smile now, it felt nice to finally see the beads forming, the gears turning. He could always tell when someone was lying now with his skill. And he could tell that the other was trying to think of ones to give him.

“I am not telling you anything.” He said firmly. Even if he was panicked Tom supposed that was sort of respectable in a very annoying way. 

“I wonder what makes this Grindelwald someone that gets so much of your undying loyalty.” Tom reached out with his magic and pressed it on the man’s head. He had never done this on a person, but he had on plenty of animals. “Show me.” 

Memories were whirling around him, more complex and full of pictures than anything he had seen though birds, snakes, or rats' eyes. There was no real pattern, no real direction. So he willed it to show him what he wanted. Feeling the man move beneath him, pushing against the pull. But Tom was very forceful and he would get what he wanted. 

_The man was stepping though a burning blue fire. A magical contract was formed. There were lots of people in dark robes, near a hundred in number all talking, murmuring, and watching. One of them stood out among them with his strange hair and miss matching eyes. He was welcoming the man with open arms._

The scene rapidly changed. 

_There were people talking in hushed tones. She must die, one was saying. She is a threat to our mission. This comes from the very top. They handed over an envelope with a blue wax seal. The man that Tom was looking through nodded in understanding._

There was a slight push back from the man that he had pinned to the ground. Tom could feel him thrashing against the bonds. But he ignored it. Pressing harder, there had to be something useful.

_The room was dark and it seemed to be a basement. There were 6 people gathered around a small map that was of his area. Well burn it all. It will draw the bitch out, and should we fail in killing her at least we will have sent a blow to her business and make her rethink these ‘charitable works’. They all seemed in agreement._

None of it was useful and Tom pulled out of his head not very gracefully. He felt slightly sick by the motion, not because he felt bad but it was harder to pull himself out then with the mice. He was still working on such things and it seemed he still needed more practice. The man was screaming clutching his head, though there was no foam at his mouth or any blood. It was rather interesting in the way that a train wreck would be and Tom watched him. Just like the mice, snakes, birds, he was able to move and such after the attempt to leave. But it seemed he might have damaged part of his consciousness. He seemed to be reliving things or was trapped in his very own head. 

He supposed that he didn’t deserve any better and him being mad would save him some trouble in the long run. He didn’t particularly want to be expelled. Not after all the work his… well, she was not really his mother… Hermione had put into making sure that he would be able to go back. He deserved it for ruining their livelihood as well. 

It seemed to have made a few of his friends come back for him. Tom was lucky enough that the slicing curse missed him and hit the man that he was stepping on. He quickly put up a shield in time for it to shatter. He returned with pushing with his magic at one while simultaneously aiming the captured wand to send a freezing spell. The robed figure didn’t expect his whole body to freeze and Tom wondered if he was to hit him with another spell if he could shatter before he was able to thaw himself out. 

A string of curses made him have to duck and hide behind one of the many trees. He fired back with a few more curses of his own. 

The bark of the tree splintered. Tom felt his face start to bleed and realized that one of the strips had hit him as it exploded outward. He took a deep breath. Casting a shield and moving from his current tree to another. 

The man was pursuing him though, more curses rushed past his head. He took shelter behind a large oak taking a couple of deep breaths in. It was clear that there wouldn’t be a good way to win this. The other was too good at blocking. There were spells though that couldn’t be blocked. 

His hair on his arms stood up, despite the heat of the night. It was one thing to use it on a basilisk but another to try it on a person. But as a Killing curse flew past his head he shot off his own unforgivable not even thinking about it.

“Crucio.” 

The man dropped to the ground as Tom kept it turned on him. His screams were loud. Louder than his friend that Tom just might have driven mad. He released him, binding him with the rope spell, tightening down them till the man didn’t have enough air to scream.

“You tried to kill me.” Tom looked down at him. “How many other people have you killed?” 

He tightened the ropes, the man choked hard reaching to try to pull the rope away from his throat. And when he was about to pass out Tom released the pressure. He needed him awake.

“Let’s see what you know your friend wasn’t very useful.” 

~/*\~

Hermione’s call for reinforcements brought Dumbledore and a few other powerful wizards. Ones that were able to help her to get the blazes under control. She was then able to look for Tom. She didn’t find him though, one of the Authorities did near the edge of the forest that bordered their property and led to that of the Muggle’s land. There were 2 men in robes that were tied up and Tom was sporting a horrible cut on his left cheek. Other than that he didn’t look injured. He looked like he was just angry. The hard look did not really suit his face. He had a tight grip on his practice wand and was not yelling at the man that was taking notes from him, but he looked like he wanted to be. 

The two men that were tied up were babbling at each other, one looked terrified and was just crying holding onto himself and the other was asking every question under the sun ranging from who are you? To who am I? 

Later Tom would tell her in more detail then the Aura’s that he did get into a duel with the two, but when he captured them they had obviated themselves. The one hadn’t done a very good job of it and probably scrambled his brain. Hermione did not know if she believed him. 

Oh, She wanted to. 

She loved Tom more than she loved anything in the world and she didn’t want to think of him capable of intentionally hurting another person after they had been subdued. She wanted to believe that he was still young and innocent in his own way. She really wanted to, but there was just that feeling that gnawed at her insides. She had heard about people that had been through the Voldemort form or legilimency and it had driven them mad. Voldemort had taken pride in unscrewing people’s minds, learning everything about them. And for some reason, it stood to reason that Tom would have a natural talent for the art. 

She didn’t know if he had been practicing or if it had been his first attempt. It felt like since he knew enough about memory charms that perhaps he really was practicing. She looked at the bandage that was over the cut on his face. It might scar, it had been deep near sliced through his cheek and into the soft tissue of his mouth. To say that Tom had been in a good mood since the incident was a blatant lie.   
Hermione had not really done much more than ground him as he really could have gotten himself killed by not listening to her. He was to stay at the house and he had rushed in, he was not even a 4th year and he thought that he could take on grown men. 

He didn’t take that well. He had pointed out he had been able to. That he could do things that she didn’t understand because she wouldn’t let him reach his full potential. That she loved her volunteering more than she loved those close to her. He called her things like weak of heart and he had yelled very viciously at her about how it was her fault that he felt like he had to help. If she didn’t put some much work into being a roadblock to Grendlewald none of this would have happened. 

And their fight had torn something, whatever fragile agreement that they had made before it all had ended. If anything it was worse than before. It left her feeling almost like Tom resented her in some way. Not even Whimsy could comfort Hermione on this. 

She avoided him and she felt like he did the same. She didn’t know how to make him understand that her life to her didn’t matter as much as the number of lives that she could save. It was not to say that she wanted to die, or had a wish for it. She did not mean to make him worry the way that he no doubt did. But in the scheme of things he couldn’t understand her perspective on it, because Tom was not the best at caring about strangers. He had not reacted when he learned that Grendlewalds followers had killed the neighbors that were Muggles to hide out in their home and plan their attack. He did not react much to the deaths of the second world war other than to hope it did not come to affect Edgar, Myrtle, Herself and Whimsy. 

When summer ended and he headed off to school he asked to do it alone. He didn’t want her there. He had not said that, but he said he was nearly 15 and could do it himself. And she had let him because she didn’t feel like arguing with him. She focused purely on rebuilding her land. She had told many of her employees that they were free to leave if they thought things were getting too dangerous for them. She didn’t want to place them in danger by her continued seeking of equality for all those that lived in the magical world. 

To her surprise, no one left. Even with her telling them that it could get worse. Even when she had told Sara and Larus of the dangers, it made their front stronger. There were more people joining than leaving volunteering to help place wards, get news to Muggle parents, and provide them a voice in the community. It proved that there were people out there, people out there that cared for each other and were united to stop someone that threatened that. Even people that normally wouldn’t have seemed the sort to help, knew now that there was a threat. 

~/*\~

The 3rd-floor corridor was nearly empty. Tom sat with Edgar. They had been quiet for a little while as there was studying to be done, and Edgar was even more determined this year to start off right. Myrtle was probably hanging out with some of the first years she took it upon herself to join the mentor club. It was a nice little thing Tom supposed that Ravenclaws did. They took the fledglings and showed them how to maneuver Hogwarts. So it just left the two of them together.

“Tom.” Edgar broke the silence. 

“Yes.” He looked up from his book, sighing softly. Edgar had that look on his face that meant that this conversation could go for a little but. 

“Did you ever think that Myrtle is kind of a girl?” 

That had never been something in the history of the universe that he ever thought that he would hear. Because yes he knew that Myrtle was a girl. He knew that forever. 

Tom blinked at him, his brow furrowing. “What?” 

“She is kinda pretty.” Edgar scratched at his cheek. “I mean she got new glasses and she is not trying to put her hair up in pigtails anymore, it kind of just falls around her shoulders. When she pulls if from that little updo that she does.”

Tom could not see Myrtle as pretty maybe it was because he didn’t really find people to be that word or maybe because she had been his friend for nearly four years now and he had seen her at her worst.

“So she is putting effort in, is what you are saying?” Tom tilted his head. He had seen the changes and he was pretty sure it was because she had a crush on Harold Prince. But he was sure by midweek that would change and she would be trying to flirt with someone else. 

“I guess, I just never saw her in that light you know.” Edgar’s face was a little flushed. “I am used to all the pretty and nice girls just sort of laughing me off, and she is always hanging out with us. She seeks me out to tell me every little thing that she is up to.” 

Was Edgar trying to say that he found her Attractive? If that was the case this has to be the most awkward conversation that he had ever had in his life. Edgar did realize that Myrtle flirted with a lot of people for fun and that she didn’t really do that full-hearted with them particularly because they were friends right? 

Surely Edgar knew this.

“She is our friend.” Tom deadpanned. 

“That's not what I mean.” Edgar sighed. “It just feels different okay, like warm in my chest. And I just know I like her and want to be closer. Look Tom don’t you ever think about girls at all?” 

He put his hand to his chin and thought about it. He never really looked much at the girls that were at his school. They were not as mature as he was. They liked to mark themselves up to the point that they looked like they wanted to be dolls with painted on faces and wigs then they wanted to look like themselves. There had really been only one person that he thought was really pretty and they might not have really counted as a person. And he had only seen them twice, as they came to him when he was very sick or in need of healing. The forest spirit or Nymph he was not even sure what she was, she was pretty. He liked what he had seen of her, there had been near sunlight dancing around her face, her eyes were a soft brown. Her hair was like brown branches that could have contained a small bird in it. But it looked like it would have been comfortable to lay his head on or to run his fingers through. Her touch had been soft and warm and she seemed to like him enough to try and be helpful.

“I guess I think one is pretty...” He shrugged. “But I don’t see how that has anything to do with anything.”

Because he didn’t this conversation was not only awkward it was making him feel self-conscious 

“Maybe you're not old enough.” Edgar shrugged. 

Tom hated it when he went all cryptic on him. He was not as versed in social things as Edgar was, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t understand it, if he just told him. 

“I am older than you.” Tom narrowed his eyes. 

“I mean you don’t think about kissing them or doing other things.” Edgar shook his head. 

What did he mean by other things...

“What would I want to do that with them? Isn’t interacting with them enough?” Tom asked. He honestly didn’t know of much else that people did with other people. He could guess but he didn’t want to fully know.

“You are innocent, I won’t ruin you,” Edgar smirked as Tom hit him. 

“No, you tell me what do you mean.” He folded his arms tightly. “You brought it up.” 

“I mean I have a lot of older brothers and they bring their girlfriends home sometimes to visit. Well not so much anymore with the war on, but they used to tell me that nothing was better than finding someone to share your love with. If you understand, most people are looking to start thinking about dating at our age. Find someone to marry out of high school. My grandparents married when they were 16. My parents when they were 19. With the war, a lot are looking a bit younger.” 

Oh….

OH... 

Tom knew what sex was, he wasn’t stupid that was what people usually referred to as sharing or making love. He heard of that sort of thing in the common room. Some book characters he had read about had made love. But he never really thought hard about it for long. Sometimes he could skip the whole part all together because it was not important. He had seen people kissing in the halls and slobbering all over each other and that had looked gross to him. It was like they were trying to devour each other and he could not imagine sharing fluids to be anything enjoyable. They would mutter that they loved each other if that was sharing love, Tom wanted nothing to do with it. 

Edgar wanted to do that with Myrtle...

“You want to share love or body fluids with Myrtle and marry her?” He tried to wrap his head around this. 

Edgar shoved him near off the bench. “That is not what I meant. I just mean that she is nice really, enjoys my company, makes me feel appreciated. Man, I was asking if you think that I have a chance to date her and if it would work out, not to do more with her than kissing… Jesus Tom.” 

Tom flushed. “Well you were the one that used that type of phrasing, how was I supposed to pick that out?” 

“I worry about you sometimes.” Edgar was now smiling at him as if he had never said anything wrong at all. Which relaxed Tom because he was sure that if he had said anything like that in front of anyone else they might have thought that he was really something to worry about. Even his… even Hermione was looking at him like he was something different, that there was something wrong with him. 

And Tom was starting to think that maybe there was…

“I think she likes someone currently but you know that changes a lot.” Tom tried to save this train wreck of a conversation. “You could ask her the worst she could say is no.”

Edgar bit his lip. “I mean it would really be weird if she knew I liked her and she didn’t like me. What if it ruined our friendship or something?” 

Tom took a deep breath not knowing if he would be comfortable with Edgar and Myrtle dating. He liked things in an ordered and controlled way and didn’t think this would be something that was remotely like that. But for some reason, Edgar’s happiness mattered to him.

“I could try to see if she likes you. Then it would not be as horrible for you to ask or you won’t have to because you’ll know the answer.” He offered.

Edgar smiled a little. “That would be really nice of you Tom.”

Getting an answer out of Myrtle was not at all easy. If anything she just made him feel really confused and like there were mixed signals as she seemed to like a lot about Edgar but then sort of didn’t. 

Edgar had thanked Tom for at least trying. 

But Tom felt a bit bad for failing rather spectacularly. 

~/*\~ 

“Do you think I should ask her?” Edgar was fiddling with his wand, making a scrap of paper that he had folded into a bird fly up and down in front of him. 

“Ask her what?” Tom hadn’t been paying attention, his thoughts had been on the fact that Christmas break was coming and the fact that he didn’t really want to go home. It would have been the first time that he had ever felt like that. 

“Slughorn has his Yule get together for students that are 4th years and up. I was invited as I think he thinks I have the ability to be a brilliant Quidditch player in the future. I’m not sure if that's true or not but I would like to go with Myrtle.” Edgar explained. “I mean she doesn’t have to go with me as a date, but I thought that I would phrase it like that.”

Tom frowned. 

“Don’t worry if she accepts it as a date, I can help you try to get a date. What about the girl that you like?” 

“She doesn’t go here.” Tom lied easily. He had a feeling that if he admitted that the only girl that he was attracted to might not even be completely real. Edgar even being as good of a friend as he was would laugh at him. 

“Explains why I can’t narrow it down.” Edgar shrugged. “That is unfortunate. But I can help you secure a date if you are planning to stay for the holidays this year.” 

“I don’t really want to go home,” Tom admitted. 

He didn’t get many letters from home, just small updates that he found himself not making it all the way through the letter. He shouldn’t do that. He should have read them. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do much more than look at them as if there were words on the page but there was nothing connecting to his brain what he was reading and why he should care. He wanted to care. He tried to force himself to write letters back. To put the feelings that he had before in there, back when the world made sense and he was not adopted, before snakes in the pipes, and before Grindelwald made his... moth- Hermione more interested in solving the world's problems than just taking care of those that she already had in her care. Mainly her business, her employees and him. 

“I wouldn’t either if I saw half of it burn like that and got a scar from it.” Edgar stopped playing with his paper bird. “Maybe going to the party is what you need. And after we can throw you one. We never have been able to celebrate your birthday with you.”

He smiled a little, but he knew that it was straining on his face. 

He hated this…

He hated whatever this feeling was that wasn’t letting him feel anything. He had always had muted feelings but never like this. It was almost like he couldn’t be happy or excited about anything. 

~/*\~

The letter arrived with the evening post. Tom wouldn’t be coming home for the holidays. He wanted to stay with his friends and for Slughorn’s party. Tom had never enjoyed any of the social events that she had him attend with her, so she really doubted that he was going to be enjoying himself there. But instead of saying this in her response. Instead of telling him to come home, because yes she missed him, and she wanted to spend time with him. She wrote that she was a little sad that he would not be coming, but hoped that he had a good time, she would be sending him his gifts. 

A few weeks later, she got a letter from the school with the midterm results but nothing from Tom. It seemed that he had done well in all classes yet again. 

She sighed, poking at her cookie that was by her tea. This was the first time that she would be spending it completely alone. Oswin had given her space, he thought that they needed a break and she figured that he was going to be leaving her soon. She laid her head against the tabletop. This was really an awful feeling. 

She had to fix this. She wasn’t sure how. But she glanced over at the tree that she hadn’t bothered to decorate that had gifts wrapped neatly under for Tom and for Whimsy. 

She felt a few tears falling from her eyes. God damn it. She held her hand against her face. 

She missed Tom so much already. She didn't want to fight him anymore. She didn’t care if she couldn’t trust him completely. She gulped down a tad of saliva trying to get that tight feeling out of her throat. There was only so much time in life that one got to spend with others. She didn’t want whatever of this to continue. 

She rubbed at her face again and summoned a quill. She had to pen out what she wanted to say. 

~/*\~

There weren't many people around and the castle for the holidays. It was pretty empty all the people could fit at one of the long tables in the great hall. Not that they did that. No one wanted to be cramped into one area or with certain individuals. 

Dumbledore looked at him from his place at the head table. Tom noticed that he had been watching him rather closely. They had not had much contact other than just for classes and Tom had a feeling that like his… Hermione, Dumbledore did not trust him. 

He sighed leaning his hand against his hand he could feel the slight scar that sat on his cheek. He tightened his fingers into the palm of his hand. Edgar was talking to a girl named Amilia. She was in the 6th year and she smiled widely at him. And then proceeded to sit next to Tom. 

He felt himself go a little stiff as he could see the way that Edgar was beaming at him. 

“I don’t have a date for the Slug party and you need one right?” She was looking at him expectantly. 

He supposed that he was supposed to ask her. He didn’t know anything about her though...

“He’s not the best at social cues.” Edgar took his spot across from them. “Just ask him directly because he won't ask you.” 

She sighed running a hand through her black hair. “Usually boys ask the girls but I suppose that I can do that. Tom please would you come with me to the Slug club party, so I can show up my ex.” 

He blinked so she didn’t even like him… 

She just wanted to go with someone so that she wouldn’t be going alone. As much as he didn’t like being in this position, he knew that he didn’t want to go alone. If he did he would only be the 3rd wheel as Myrtle had happily accepted Edgar’s offer and Tom was sure that Edgar would be trying his best to move out of the zone of friendship that Myrtle had mistakenly put him into when she said yes. 

“Sure.” He tried to smile. “It's nice to know that you could consider me attractive enough to bother your ex.”

Amilia grinned like a shark. “Tom there is not a girl here that wouldn’t be jealous to have you as a date, and a lot of us compare other guys to you. It has mostly to do with politics that people avoid asking and because you do have this scowl thing that you do.”

He could tell that Amila was the type of person that would talk his ear off. But he could try to be charming, try out the things that he had read about. He would see if there was anything to be gained by acting like a gentleman. He didn’t have much experience with girls, Myrtle in his opinion didn’t count. She was not really the typical girl. He knew that polite listeners and wit were something that other girls seemed to want. He could play the part. 

“Is that your subtle way of saying that I should smile more?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “I will have you know that my gloomy face helps to keep others away from me.” 

“So you can study more.” Amila didn’t miss a beat.

“Perhaps is that so wrong?” Tom smirked.

“No, but you aren’t a Ravenclaw like I am so it makes me wonder why the hat placed you in Slytherin.” She smiled nicely and she was hard to read. Tom could work with that. 

“Have you seen the passion projects that I help Myrtle with? Or the things that I have helped my mother with politely to push along. Please, I have ambition in spades.” He had more than that but it was not exactly what he wanted to talk about out loud. Wanting to take on Grindelwald by shooting a few killing curses at him and those that dared to follow him would make a poor thing to admit in the wrong company. And the word mother left a poor taste in his mouth. 

“And courage you fought a basilisk and a bunch of Grendlewalds forces right?” 

Tom shrugged. “Yes, but it wasn’t that hard of a thing to do. People that follow Grindelwald are rather poor at magic. At least the thugs that I ran into. And I dropped a school on a basilisk. I didn’t actually duel it.” 

“I like your confidence, we're going to get along fine. Just wear something nice to the event and I am convinced that we'll make a very perfect pair.” Amilia stood and as she turned her black curls turned with her. 

“So did I do okay?” Edgar looked at him a little smugly.

“How did you get her to agree to want to go with me?” Tom watched her leave. She wasn’t a Pureblood but even as a Half-blood went she had a couple dozen people pursuing her at once. He didn’t really know much else about her. He thought that she looked a lot like a doll but at least she seemed to have some sort of a personality. He could play the part for their date and then move on with his life. She probably would want to as well.

“Well to be honest she sort of sought me out. She needed a date and she needed someone that would bother Nott. She asked if you were available.” 

Tom sighed. “She is a half-blood right, how is she dating a pureblood?” 

“She is not considered a half-blood for the reason that you think. She is about one-fourth Veela so she gets her looks there and her ability to charm near anything. I think this is her way of getting back at him for insulting her and insinuating that their relationship wouldn’t leave Hogwarts. She broke up with him by the way.” Edgar shrugged. 

“So should I watch my back is what you are saying?” Tom felt a headache coming along. 

“I don’t think he will try anything, considering that there aren't that many students here currently and it would be very easy to narrow it down.” Edgar defended. “Besides I think that she is actually pretty nice even if she has another motive at the moment to go with you. It might also just be an excuse to try dating you.” 

Tom sighed again feeling sort of tired for no real good reason. 

~/*\~

Yule morning Tom woke to find a few presents that were sent to the common room. One from Edgar, one from Myrtle, One from Whimsy and 2 from Hermione. 

He got a very nice scarf from Whimsy that had a more tight-knit pattern than the previous one that she had made him last year. It was warm and soft to the touch. He would wear it for sure. Myrtle had given him another one of her books that she had marked passages that she liked with small pieces of paper. Edgar had gifted him more polish for his broom. Which was thoughtful because he would probably be able to use it over the summer. His broom got a lot of air time with the need to be out of the house. 

Lastly, he looked at the gifts that Hermione had sent him. Shani curled around him knowing that he was upset but not knowing the exact reason why. He opened the card first and it had her nice handwriting. It was a simple card that said Happy Yule and had a picture of the Christmas party and the employees they had had it in their own yard. There was a small not that said you missed you this year, hope that you are having fun. Love Ma. 

In the first box, there was a radio. It was a magical one but it was small and he now could have news besides what was reported on by the paper. It was very well polished wood and he ran a finger over it. The other gift was a thin and well-bound journal with quills. It had his name at the bottom. Tom R. Granger.   
He felt along with the letters, feeling the bumps and the indents to the golden print. Something in him compelled him to. It felt familiar in a way. She still considered him family at the very least. There was a small piece of paper tucked inside. 

_Write out your thoughts to clear them, your adventures, dreams, and draw if need be._

She didn’t sign this note but he knew it was her writing. He didn’t have something as nice as this before. He had notebooks sure, but this was leather-bound and the paper was thicker to handle whatever he decided to do with it. 

~/*\~

Slughorn's party just turned out to have a lot of important seeming people at it and the professor was taking a lot of pride drinking and trying to introduce students to them. Tom was not saved from meeting a few of these people. Amilia did not seem at all bothered by being paraded around. She must have been used to it. 

She pulled him aside eventually and Tom was only slightly grateful for it, but not really because of the place that she had picked. It was a bit secluded from the rest of everyone and he had a very funny feeling in his gut the way that she was looking at him. It was not that feeling of danger, he was almost unfortunately used to that feeling. This was something else like he was waiting for bad news. 

“I think this is far enough.” Amila sat down on the stone staircase. She pulled a little upon her purple dress so that she didn’t have any issues. She patted the stair space next to her and he reluctantly sat down. “You know I actually am really enjoying spending this break with you, Tom.” 

She moved closer to him and he could smell her perfume. It was almost a little overwhelming. 

“I like spending time with you as well.” He managed. He didn’t dislike her. She was decent enough to spend time with. The hair on his arms started to rise a little. She leaned in and he had no idea what she was doing and so he pulled a little away. 

She blinked at him. “I am trying to kiss you, Tom.” She told him plainly.

He had never been kissed beside the small ones that his… Hermione would give him. He didn’t know how to and he didn’t know if he wanted to.

“I have never…” He started. 

She smiled slightly, “Did you want to try it?”

He didn’t have time to really think it over because she softly pressed her lips to his and it was kind of wet. It made his head feel a little fuzzy, and he was not sure if that was because he hadn’t ever experienced anything like this or if it was because of her being part Veela. 

She pulled back. “Was that nice?” She asked. 

He dumbly nodded because it did feel that way. It really did. Her hair had a more golden tint to it now. And he felt the urge to touch it. 

She pulled a little back from him. “Sorry it sometimes acts up and I can’t control it, take a second to clear your head.” 

He did and whatever weird fuzz went away. He didn’t really like not being in control of himself, but he had for the past few weeks felt nothing. This was the first time that he had felt better because his brain was actually turned off. 

She looked at him expectantly. 

“I liked it, it's kind of nice not to have my brain giving me a thousand thoughts a second.” 

“I think you overthink things.” Amilia nodded. “Sometimes it's best to just go with how you feel about things and act on them.” 

In that case, his instincts were telling him that he wanted to just turn his brain off again, from the party, from the adoption, Hermione, the war, Grindelwald, and everything else. He leaned a little forward and she kissed him again. In his head, he was kissing someone else. Not Amilia, not that he didn’t like her. But she was not the prettiest thing that he had ever seen, she was not someone that he really had a lot of attraction to, it was just the feeling that he wanted and it was easy to picture doing this with someone else. 

~/*\~ 

She leaned against him and Tom felt her hair it was soft. He put his hand in it and she didn’t seem to care that it was getting ruined. She was half asleep and there were weird feelings stirring in him. Kissing was no longer something that was really that gross. It was something that he sort of wanted. Holding her felt like the times that he used to hold onto Hermione though that was a long time ago. She had refused after he had gone to Hogwarts. He wondered what that would be like, to hold someone at night that he loved that wanted to spend time with him like that…

He would not only feel safe but he would be able to protect that person. He wouldn’t let anything happen to them, and possibly it could be vice versa. He didn’t think that Amilia could be that person. She was not the best by what she had told him of defense. She was more into charms and had been spending her time in the more Women’s focused charms class learning things that housewives would need to know. He didn’t think he would really like someone like that. He didn’t want someone that wanted to really completely please him and compromise herself. Someone that fought back on some things like Myrtle would have been the better option. Someone that was his equal in everything from spell work to thinking. Someone that challenged him...

~/*\~

His birthday was rather nice. It was full of off-key singing and small little gifts form his friends. Hermione sent him new art supplies and a letter, a very long one that he had not had the will to read. It was so long and he was still upset with her, even if at this point it seemed he was trying to hold on being upset with her. 

She didn’t trust him to make his own decisions. She would not let him help to protect her. She put others' lives above those events that she was supposed to love. She wouldn’t tell him the truth about what was going on even in her own life, even if it could affect him, and as such, she showed that she didn’t trust him… She had lied to him his whole life by not telling him what he was. He was a Guant and she had thought to hide that from him, and he didn’t know what else that she was hiding from him. But it felt like it was a lot. 

Edgar and Myrtle were dating. It came to a surprise probably to everyone in the school except for Tom, who figured that Edgar would win her over eventually once he was very blunt with his feelings. Nothing had really changed other than every other Friday they took the night off for themselves to do whatever it was that dates did. Tom didn’t know much about it even with dating someone like Amilia. She was not very clear on what she wanted from him and he often felt a bit lost on what to do. 

The year wound down, ending with a break up from Amilia something about how Tom was not the best at progressing things. It was probably because kissing and holding her was doable. He didn’t mind that in the slightest but the idea of going further than that was still a little sickening. He had no interest in it even if there were those that were insistent in his dorm that sex was fantastic… 

~/*\~

Tom stepped off the train to see Hermione, she was dressed very plainly. She waved at him happily and he suddenly felt incredibly bad for not reading her longer letter that she had included in his birthday gift. She must have really apologized or tried to reach out and he had ignored it. But then another part of him, the stubborn part of him brought up the fact that she had wanted to fix things over mail and not in person. She could have come seen him at one of the Hogsmeade weekends and they could have talked it all out. Though perhaps she had known that he wouldn’t have wanted to meet her there…

He took a deep breath trying to place on a smile promising himself that he would read it all over before bed. Then they could really have a real talk about whatever it was that she thought to put into there. He would put effort into repairing the relationship it had felt a little empty fighting with her after all. 

~/*\~

Hermione smiled when Tom accepted her hug. It felt warm and perhaps she held on a little longer than she should have. But it was so good to have Tom back. It was as if she had missed a very big piece of herself and had she not kept herself busy she very well could have gone crazy without him. It was amazing how well he grounded her, pushed her to her limits, and made her think of things in new lights.

She was hopeful that her letter had fixed things or at least put them on better footing. Him wanting to hug her had to be proof that things were on the mend. 

“We cleared all the grounds and rebuilt the barns, sheds, and such,” Hemione told him as they ate lunch in the small restaurant in London. “The farmhouse is again livable but is in need of an expansion for other workers that have joined as I now have a bit more land. I plan on keeping the current farmhouse as temporary housing for now considering the events of last summer. The Muggles that were killed had to sell and I decided to dedicate more land to trying to keep the forests intact. But give the house over to those that were living in the converted barn. I have to clean out the place before I set up any wards there. The plan is that it will be Fidelius charmed so that none of the workers are in a very dangerous position again.”

Tom nodded. “That sounds good.” 

“It solves a lot of issues I have been having with adjusting wards and trying to keep everyone as safe as I can. It took me a while to figure out a real solution, longer than I would like to admit.” Hermione sighed because it had been a challenging task. She had less time to do her volunteer work with everything that she had to manage.

“I could help you clean out the place, in exchange, you can teach me about the wards,” Tom said, finishing up his sandwich.

“I wouldn’t mind teaching you, it would make it easier to have someone else that could check on the enchantments every once and a while to see if they are still up and running. I think that you would be very good at it, seeing that you can feel them.” 

He would be very good at it. She knew that to her very core. Tom could be good at anything that he really put his mind to. 

“I have been studying runes and wards, but the things we’re learning in school is nothing compared to yours.” 

“Well, I assume that they are starting with beginning ones. Some runes can really cause problems if they are not drawn correctly as they are essentially magical ticking time bombs.” She frowned slightly, feeling at her leg that was under the table. Wondering when exactly she would experience any other issues with her seal. 

“We had one tablet explode.” Tom shook his head. “Cred is not very good at the subject. I don’t think he will be allowed into the next level with the number of times that the professor has had to fix his messes.” 

“Well it takes a steady hand to carve symbols and depending on the canvas it can be increasingly difficult.” Hermione agreed with him. If someone was not good at making symbols or did not have neat handwriting or drawing capability it was not the subject for them. 

“I think paper, wood, and stone are all fine to work with, but stitching them into clothes, I don’t know about that.” Tom was now smiling, showing off what he knew.

“It is not an easy thing to do, nor that recommended without the proper threads.” Hermione took a sip of her tea. “I never tried it when I was in school but I had a friend named Luna that showed great skill at it. However, since she believed in magical creatures that no one had ever heard of we didn’t know for sure if the complex designs that she sewed into her clothes did anything.” 

“Could I buy some of this thread to practice with?” Tom asked after a moment. “I’ll work on my things outside of the house.” 

Hermione scratched her cheek thinking about it. “If you clean out the garage of the old tools and such you could have that as your own workspace. All I ask is that you are careful when developing your runes and use the tools I’ll get you appropriately.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Tom agreed quickly. 

Yes, things looked a little better than they did last summer. Hermione couldn't really keep the smile off of her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while, mostly because I wanted to rest my hands and because this is another 9,000-word chapter. You can blame Tom he likes to talk and I am happy to oblige him. 
> 
> Thank you to all the well-wishers! I hope that the wait has been worth it. We're moving into the final act here, I would say so expect a lot of things to go down in the next chapter.
> 
> *Things burning and screaming in the next chapter* 
> 
> [It's fine] (ʘ∇ʘ)ク 彡 ┻━┻


	26. Part XXVl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckled those seat belts things are going to get very, very ugly. 
> 
> Blood / Violence warning 
> 
> / ( º _ º ) /

Chapter 26

______________________

 _Dear Tom,_

_15 I can scarcely believe it…_

_I don’t know what to write even after many many drafts. It’s the day before your birthday and I am sitting here thinking that this is the first time that I will not be with you. How did you grow up so fast Tom? I remember when I first brought you home and I spent hours finishing your room. I couldn’t decide between dinosaurs or dogs. I picked dogs because that was what I was planning on if it was a boy back when I lived elsewhere. Every year you just kept getting bigger and I loved every moment. From you trying to eat seashells, to learning to walk, and then the way that you would run around the house following me everywhere._

_I know that you are not that little boy anymore. You have grown up into a very strong young man. Forgive an older woman for forgetting what it was like to be 15 and in a war. A war that you didn’t ask for. I always thought that I could keep you from it, that my battles could be kept separate from yours. But I forget that it is impossible to sit and watch when someone you love is in danger, even if that danger is brought upon by some arguably poor choices._

_But when you're young that does not matter. When I was your age there was a war brewing. There was a Dark Lord that thought that the key to his power would be to kill my friend Harry and every year ever since I was 12 there was always a danger, a plot, and another attempt. I fought every step of the way, even when my parents were worried sick, or when your father's mother would tell us not to meddle. There are many regrets, many deaths, and I sought to protect you from it all. But just being here, my ambitions have already involved you. Though most of everything that I do is in a concluded way revolves around you. I want a world that I didn’t have, what your father did not have, a safe place for you and those that you love._

_I have always been ambitious. It is probably why I was considered for another house, but it was ultimately decided that I was too passionate, too obligated to help others at any expense. I hope that you can forgive me for keeping you in the dark… God Tom, you don’t know how much I want to tell you somethings but don’t know how to. Because I am selfishly holding onto the idea that the less you know that better, the happier that you will be…._  
_______________________________________

Tom blinked there was a noise, he could hear it through the sound of the creaking of the house. He listened hard. It sounded like footsteps and it pulled him from reading the letter that he promised himself that he would read. But at this time of night, he was not sure what to be thinking and he would need to process it more. 

But the noise continued. 

The steps were louder and there was something being dragged. He would have ignored it thinking it was Whimsy or his mother doing something but Paws was standing up on the edge of his bed. Shani was still asleep but the older cat was looking at the hall and Tom moved a little away from the headboard putting the letter down and moving closer to where the cat was. There was definitely someone moving in the house. He saw that brown hair that was fuzzy and at first, he thought that it was Hermione, but it was too small. 

He stepped out of bed carefully, quietly, and he could see it better, from his doorway. It was not Hermione it became painfully obvious, the hair though was right, it was even puffier if that was possible and there could have been a bird hiding in it with the way that it tangled towards the top. Her hair shimmered in the dim candle lit hall. It was that hair that he had dreamed of. 

Was she the spirit that he had seen on occasion? 

She wasn’t facing him, her clothes seemed too big for her. Larger black plan robes, they were swimming around her. She was limping as she moved fingers clutching at the fabric. There was a stain on her robe now that he was looking at her. He couldn’t really move, as she made her way towards the bathroom. She seemed to know the way. 

“Who are you?” He asked if he might not have had a wand but he could have taken he was sure a girl that was her size and if it was the girl he dreamed of some times, then he could properly meet her.

She turned and he could briefly see a girl's face that was perhaps only a few years older than him. Her eyes widened and she reached for him. Her mouth opened as if to say something, and then it was as if she couldn’t stay in the physical world. He felt her touch for a second. It was warm and then he could not feel her anymore. She faded running through him and he was left in an empty hallway, eyes wide and no evidence that there had ever been anyone there. He looked down towards the stairs and then the bathroom. 

She left no trace of her at all. 

It had to be a dream. 

There was no way that he had seen that. But Paws had seen it too, she had been watching it before he had and she was making her way to the place that she had been seconds before licking at the floor. He pushed her away and could see a single dark spot. 

Was she bleeding? 

He crept down the hall, just to see if she had gone towards Hermione and if she had seen it. But she was still sleeping. She was covered up by the comforter, but he could see her brown hair, it did not look as gray from here. But it could be that she was dying it. It was just as wild as the girl that he had seen. He didn’t get much closer to her as he did not want to wake her. 

What he had seen could have been a ghost of some sort or it could have been that he got a better look at his forest spirit. But whatever it was it didn’t hurt them and he felt like he had for sure seen her before. If anything she was in trouble. 

He headed back to his room, horribly confused with what he had seen and he did not see it again, even though he stayed up just in case he could get another glimpse.

~/*\~ 

His mother startled him as she got to take a shower and her hair was back to having streaks of gray in it when he sat at the table with her. He realized that he had been staring far too long. Because she looked concerned at him over her coffee cup.

“Sorry, I’m just tired.” He yawned as if to prove his point. 

“You don’t look like you slept at all.” She nodded her head. “Perhaps you should go back to bed.”

It was tempting but he had said that he would help with the cleaning of the old farmhouse and he didn’t want to seem like he was just trying to get out of things. Besides, he doubted that he would be able to actually sleep regardless of how tired he was, once he was up he was up and that was it there was no going back to bed.

“I’ll be fine, could I try some of you coffee?” He asked. 

Hermione raised one of her eyebrows. “Sure, I don’t know if you will like it if you're not used to drinking it though I buy some strong blends.” She waved the pot over and a mug. She poured him some and then pushed the sugar his way as if anticipating that he would need it. 

He did end up putting a lot of sugar in and some milk and it was barrable. “It’s alright.” 

He accepted after he got the correct consistency. 

“You say that now.” She looked at him knowingly. 

And he wished that she had been wrong because he felt it definitely waking him up. She was right about it being strong. He felt very shaky with it and had no idea how she could drink the stuff so casually. She was smiling at him though.

“Do you have the sudden urge to do something productive now?” Hermione finished her cup.

Tom smiled a little at that. “I definitely feel like I need to be moving.” 

“I can brew a less strong blend the next time if you want to try that instead.”

“I am perfectly fine.” Tom tried to control the way that his leg was bouncing. 

She laughed at him and it was a harsh laugh, very different from Amilias and the other girls that he had met through her. They were always seemingly polite laughs, he never noticed it before. Hermione never seemed to care about those sorts of things. 

“Well, I am headed to clean the farmhouse if you want you can fly over or apparate with me. Otherwise it will be a 4-mile hike.” She whisked her dishes away and Whimsy that was now just starting to make her way to the kitchen had to duck her head to have one of them miss her.

“Sorry Whimsy.” Hermione smiled slightly. “I was not expecting you to come in just now.”

“It is no problem, miss.” Whimsy leaned on her cane as she hobbled her way to the open chair. “ Whimsy is sorry that she was not up to make you breakfast.”

“That is nothing to worry about Whimsy, I just made some bagels. You are more than welcome to have that and some yogurt.” Hermione pushed a plate towards her.

“Thank you.” Whimsy nodded her head. “It is good to have you home again Master Tomas.” 

The old elf smiled at him and reached her withered hand over to him holding his fingers for a few seconds. Tom squeezed a little back before letting the elf take her hand back.

“Whimsy will have to make your favorite sandwiches for lunch.” She nodded and took a small bite of a bagel. 

~/*\~ 

Hermione worked to clear the old Muggle home. There were a lot of old corners and there had been a few things that were magical that were hiding in the dark places. She had seen a few dust sprites that had scooted quickly away from the many brooms that Hermione had enchanted to do the cleaning as she organized furniture and went through the belongings that had been left there. Tom was being helpful by taking care of the first floor as she worked hard on the second floor. 

She vanished many of the furnishings if they were in too poor shape to fix the rest she sent heavy cleaning spells at and reparios. There were 6 bedrooms on the second floor and if one was to get rid of the office, and the baby room there would be enough room for most of her employees to have their own room. Some would have to share but there was plenty of space for that. It was also fairly well decorated. 

She knew that it was fortunate that things were well in place, but it did not take the severity of the circumstances that allowed her to acquire the property. The family that died here from Grendlewald’s actions could never be forgotten. She planned on at least setting up a small monument to them in remembrance. 

She sighed, brushing her back hair, turning towards the sound of a creaking floorboard. Tom was standing there quietly watching her. She gripped her heart because he was so soft on his feet sometimes. 

“Tom you startled me.” She shook her head turning from him to finish up the wiping of the desk she was working on. “Are you done with the first floor?”

Tom moved into the room and laughed a little. “Of course mother, I wouldn’t be up here if I wasn’t. Perhaps though I shouldn’t even call you that.” 

She narrowed her eyes, really looking at him before sighing. “Oh, so you are my boggart I was wondering if I would see one.” 

She had expected the old house to have its fair share of issues Muggle previously owned or not. 

The thing pretending to be Tom tilted his head, his smile sharp. “Does it bother you that I know who you are and that I am despite your best efforts heading down a dark path.” 

He moved so that he could lean against the desk that she was behind. “You know I drove that man crazy. You know that there was that dead one found a month later in the woods.” 

Yes she knew that. She knew it even if she didn’t want to believe it. She knew why Tom had done it though, even could understand it in a way. 

His face was starting to distort a bit, he was becoming pale, and with red eyes. So he resembled Tom but just so. That was the effect of Horcruxes. It had stolen the rest of Tom Riddle’s looks and humanity from him and turned him into the Voldemort that she had come to know in the original timeline. 

“So my worst fear is not that you will not love me anymore, it's that you will turn into him.” She shook her head and cast the protective incantation. The Voldemort-Tom turned into a small little boy with apple sauce stuck to his cheeks. She laughed a little. “I know that you won't become him. I will make sure of that even if you hate me.”

The boggart fled through the open window and she set about looking to make sure that no more of those pesky creatures had made their home in the house. She also checked on the real Tom. Who had dealt with one in the basement. 

They ate together and Tom told her a little bit more about the past school year. He had not written much in his letters, but it sounded nice that he had tried dating someone. She didn’t think that Tom had it in him the ability to possibly like someone that way but it seemed that it was possible. So maybe she would have grandchildren in her future. It was a very odd feeling, almost surreal the way that he told her that he was slightly annoyed with all the love advice that Edgar was giving him. 

“I don’t need to know what they do when they are not around me. It’s not like I want to try any of it.” Tom shook his head. “But Myrtle wants to share everything. She thinks that I’ll find someone better than Amilia. She might get funny ideas over the summer on who I should be coupled with.” 

He frowned thinking about it, and she almost laughed at how sour he looked about it. 

“You’re young.” Hermione felt herself smile a little. “You’ll find someone maybe where you least expect it.” 

Tom tore off a bit of bread off his sandwich that Whimsy had made him. “Maybe…” 

“No you will.” She nodded her head definitely. “You are a kind person, hardworking, and smart. Whoever you fall for will be lucky to have you.”

She ruffled his hair a little and he smacked her hand away. Even with that movement she still smiled at him. When she looked at him and was sitting there with him. She began to understand why she could live with him hating her if it came down to it. It would if it were to happen be the most painful thing that had ever happened to her. But she could live with it, just to see him happy in other areas. 

He could not be happy if he became the dark person from her nightmares. Hermione had a feeling that Voldemort had given up his happiness to be something that lived forever. That was not living so perhaps that was her biggest fear, that he would not lose his life, but he would lose the reasons to live it to its fullest. That he would forget how to love and forget all the care that the world had to offer him. 

Yes that was what she feared most. Even if she wanted him at her side, she would do anything to give him a good life. Even if that meant that he hated her push back from getting him completely involved with her battles. He wanted to help her and she knew that compromised him in a way, the dark was a tempting thing. Even if she was fully sure that the only reason that he would dabble was for protection. She wouldn’t keep trying to keep him out of the loop anymore. She would try to help him make his own decisions and give him as much freedom as she could. 

But she wanted to keep him safe more than anything, Tom was not destined to face Grindelwald and he wouldn’t have to. She would keep the promise she made in her letter to him, and tone down the amount of charity work she did in order to protect those that already were asking for it from her. Even though just backing off a little bit was making them have really a clear target now, they knew where to hurt her. But Tom was right, She had people she had to take responsibility for and she wanted to make sure that they had the groundwork should anything happen to her. 

She knew that Tom would not go completely dark. Even if she was not the best guide for him or wasn’t there to guide him. Her Tom was good no matter what her fears were, or Dumbledore’s concerned looks told her the night of the fire. Tom was gray and so was she. Because Hermione knew very well that she was not a very good person despite her good intentions. She had selfishly altered time after all and possibly cost many people to never exist. Even if she saved hundreds from bombings. 

They did not have to be good by others' standards. 

They would get through all this and they would be fine or it would end and she would die making sure that nothing happened to Tom. It was her deepest and oldest promise to him. She would protect him and as the swing of war came towards Britain it was evident by Grindelwald’s newest movements that he had the elder wand. She wouldn’t allow that to stop her from protecting Tom and those that needed her. She had helped to beat Voldemort once and had raised Tom which was probably the more challenging task. 

~/*\~

The June wind blew the warm air through the open shed doors, as Tom vanished the rest of the things from the shed so that he could set up his workspace. He had finished helping clean the farmhouse and was now taking the time for himself to prepare space for projects. It was a lot of sorting but most of it was old equipment for keeping the garden that they really didn’t need. He sighed deeply looking about the dust and grime that he would have to scrub off the windows and the table would need a few stronger repair charms, but this would be his own space and he couldn’t wait to work on his runes. 

As he brushed the glass with a wet washcloth he saw his mother heading away from the woods. He called to her but she didn’t even turn. She just kept limping and then that feeling of deja vu hit him. It had been a long time since he had seen the spirit or nymph or whatever it was. It looked bigger though, the robes fit her more. 

He followed her a few steps before wondering if she was a boggart the way she turned and was covered in blood. It was dripping down her leg and pooling on the grass. It looked like Hermione, be it a lot younger than she was. It had her freckles and her crazy hair. 

She blinked at him as if trying to place him, looking quickly around herself. 

She opened her mouth again. 

T̵̙̯͂͌͌ơ̶̝̩m̸̨̰̯͘ ̷̢̭̯̍̑ 

It was near impossible to understand her as it was jumbled and just as before she seemed to almost be glitched, like a bad record skipping along the needle. 

H̶e̶l̸p̸ ̶

That word was slightly understandable. Help but with what? The blood? 

“Help how?” He tried to understand what this was, he didn’t even know if he should help it. 

.̶̯̙̹̘̼͈͎͈̗̹̬͈̯̞̐̇̇̊͑̏̏͌̎̆̾̔̚̕͜͠͠ͅ.̷̧̡̰̘͈͉͊͗͑́͑̄̈́́̚͝ ̴̨͇͚̙̙̘̳̼̭̘̬̠̥̅ ̴̨̧̞̲̼̘͔͕͎̫̮̹͕̗͝ͅ ̶̧̧̙͇̅͊̒̓̀ ̴̨̲̦͙͓̙̣̻͕̥̪̹̞͇͓̻͙̊̕ ̴͎͕̮̣̍͋̅̄̃ ̷̫͈̣̥͓̟̟̝̱͆͗̈͛ ̷̢͈̮͇̮̗͔͓̭͇̹̪̄͘ͅ ̴̨̢̥̠̰͕̤̮͍̯̣̙͕̠̟̗͛ ̵̢̧̨̤̭̩̼̩̩͗̄̾ ̷͎̥̹͔̞̈́̀̈́͂̅̍̒͌͘

It fell apart again and he had no idea what was happening. But he did see the blood in the grass and he knew that she had been there and when he waved his wand over it, he knew at the very least that they were human whoever they were. 

He quickly headed back inside. Perhaps he was going crazy. He rubbed at his head getting a slight headache. 

His... Hermione was where he had last seen her. She was reading in her chair and the radio was playing a slow song. The music was hauntingly slow. She shut the paper when she saw him looking at her. 

“All done cleaning for today?” She asked and her voice was perfectly fine. She looked happy to see him, her glimmered and wrinkled face looked perfectly normal. 

“Yes, I have a headache and am going to head to bed.” He walked up the stairs half expecting to see the figure that was now for sure haunting him. 

~/*\~ 

It was mid-summer and the July heat was near unbeatable even with cooling spells. Hermione didn’t particularly like running errands in the middle of the day but sometimes things just had to be done. She needed to get the rest of the seeds for planting over the new greenhouse and one could not wait on purchasing such things. 

She made her way through Diagon Alley and towards the potionarum, which usually carried ingredients that she sometimes used for what she could not grow. They had agreed to save some bulbs for her that she would plant hopefully tonight. 

After buying the bulbs she made sure to stop by her store, and start working on the paperwork. Time flew by how long it took her to go over some of the numbers. Lavorx was good at them and had started to make sure to lay it out to her how much she would be on a budget. 

Things would be tight. She ran a hand through her hair, things were getting ugly out there. She combed her fingers through her hair just trying to breathe. If she didn’t have needed products people were ordering, she would really be in trouble. Still having to order ingredients in rather than using her own was costing her quite a bit. But she refused to fire anyone. She had given them jobs when no one else would and she couldn’t turn them out now. 

Well she could… but there was no way that she would do that. She would cut into her own pay if it meant that she could keep everyone on. 

She went over the list again there had to be a way to cut expenses that Lavorx might have overlooked. It was not likely with how thorough he was but there might be other options. She looked up when she heard the bell ringing. She only had a handful of the staff here tonight. It was the full moon which meant there were no shipments headed in or out and there were a few vampires out for the blood moons passing. It was something meaningful to them so it was just her, Mox, Minny, and Sutanna in the back room working on the full moon potions and there was Richard that was going about basic maintenance and cleaning. 

“I’ll get it.” She announced just so no one missed an important step in their potions. 

There was a cloaked man at the front desk. She slipped her wand slowly into her hand from her sleeve. Trying to be as calm as possible but no one would be wearing such a thick cloak even at this time of night. The temperature outside was still too warm. She herself had on a thin black robe. 

“Can I help you?” She said cautiously.

“That remains to be seen.” The man turned to her and she could see his face, there were miss-matched eyes looking at her. That hair was unmistakable. She knew who this Wizard was. He turned his head to the side in a way that was reminiscent of Tom. “Are you Hermione Granger by chance?” 

He was so calm and sounded so composed but the way that he looked at her was enough to chill her blood. She took a step back and he knew, she knew at that moment. She opened her mouth but she quickly felt as if all the air was being sucked out from around her. She could not breathe and there was a tightening around her throat. It had to be making bruises with the way it seemed to clamp against her windpipe. She gripped at it with her free hand uselessly, almost instinctively. The other one tightened around her wand. 

“It is pleasant to make your acquaintance. You have been causing me quite a headache.” He said it as if he wasn’t choking her. Her eyes started to water by the strength of it. She needed to think and think fast or she would have a broken neck. She could feel the pressure on her vertebrae. She used the rest of her voice to croak out the hardest knockback spell she knew. 

He shielded it near-instantly but it broke the hold on her throat and she was able to suck in a deep breath and dive behind the desk as a fire spell rushed past her head engulfing the nearby shelves where she had been seconds ago. 

The potion bottles cracked by the intense heat throwing glass and spreading the fire further into the shop as magical combinations sparked and came to life. 

“Oh come now, we should not duel with objects between us.” 

The desk was sliced in half and she couldn’t help it; she screamed covering her head. Splinters of wood dug into her robe. Slicing into her hand as she attempted to hold up her wand to protect herself. She could feel blood trickling down her leg.

She shielded the next blast of fire and the curtains erupted into flame. She could feel the power of the elder wand and it slammed at her and she had her best shield break into golden flickers of light. And she was hardly able to step out of the way of the killing curse that shot past her. It singed her hair. 

She heard other people screaming but she didn’t have time to think of anything but trying to keep alive. 

She threw down a weather charm making it foggy in the shop. It was near blinding with the smoke and the blazes. She used the side door to make it into the street. Her leg was burning and she couldn’t run. No she had to hobble quickly and she made sure to turn herself into the nearest Alleyway. 

She pulled herself behind the brick wall. Looking at the wound on her hand, trying to heal it with a trembling opposite hand than her wand hand as that one was bleeding heavily and she didn’t know if her finger would stay on if she didn’t try.

There was a brief feeling of pain, and the sting made her bite her lip hard to be quiet as the skin stitched together and muscles reformed. 

“Running away.” She heard his calm voice getting close. “I heard that you were brave from none other than Dumbledore himself.” 

She grit her teeth and took in another breath. She couldn’t apparate here, she needed to get about another 100 ft away. Right past where he was standing. 

She cursed the wards that shop owners put in place to keep people from stealing. 

Godric.

She hit her head slightly against the brick trying to brace herself. 

Okay she could do this. 

If she stayed here she would die in this alley. 

She had to wait till he turned the bend then she would run past him. 

Right she bit her lip harder so that she tasted metallic hot liquid.

She didn’t have time to pray as he turned his head to her hiding place and she surprised him by casting a floating charm on herself and kicking off the wall with her good leg to go over his head and she shielded in time to block the next curse hurled at her, she didn’t even know what it was. But she didn’t care. It shattered the windows behind her of the robe shop. And she ran. She ran as fast as she could feel the pain in her leg burn worse. 

There were more blasts of light and she scrambled putting a trash can between her and the next spells. She looked behind her and pulled harder at her hip trying to stop the bleeding. She could hardly move with the pain. But she struggled forward a few more steps. Shielding yet another curse feeling the hum of it and the strain against her wand. 

Something denial tore in her leg as she made it past the ward spot and tumbled down onto the cobblestone road. She felt the mud, the gravel, but it didn’t matter she was past where she needed to be. She apperated with another curse singing the little bit of her robe as she went. 

She crashed onto her own lawn. The tall grass swallowing her up. 

Her leg was burning and she pulled up her skirt and the robe out of her way, her wand dropping in the process from slickened fingers. 

Her seal…

The runes that kept her in this time there was a chunk of the desk sticking out of one of the lines and the other was damaged by a deep scrape. She let out a shuttered breath. Tears streaming down her cheeks. She slowly pulled on the splinter of wood. She bit her tongue as she gave out a muffled scream. 

It hurt more to have it in her than it would be to have it out. She panted and tried to wipe the blood of her robe, to see the lines better. It really was damaged. Her hands were trembling and they were starting to fade in and out. Her vision was blurring and she rubbed at her face, tears mixing with blood. She let in another ragged breath. 

This was not good. 

This was not good at all. 

She dragged herself to the steps of her house. Her leg not even able to bend at the hip without a feeling of agony. 

God more blood dripped, slicking her wooden floors.

“Mistress!” Whimsy screamed out in alarm as she slammed into the kitchen table she could hear the pounding on the stairs as Tom flew down them. 

She looked at him and tried to smile to reassure him but simply crashed to the floor. She felt as if she was slowly being pulled apart and the burning was getting worse. 

She did not have much time. 

Funny how time was the thing that was ripping her insides out at the moment. 

“What happened?” He managed. 

“Grindelwald.” She managed trying to shew Tom away from her and her hand went through the table. 

He looked at her with wide and terrified eyes. She didn’t think his pale face could get any paler. He rushed down the stairs again nearly falling as he went to get one of the potions that would be in the basement. 

He brought her a healing potion and his hands trembled as he tried to steady them to hand it to her. It wouldn’t help with anything but the pain. But she took it from him and downed it. She gripped at her wand as there was a horrid noise and she knew what it was. It was the sounds of her shields being rammed into. The house shook. 

They would not hold. 

Not against that wand if that was what was pounding against them. 

But she could activate the last defense with her blood there would be no way to pass through after that. 

She might be able to save the house but she wouldn’t be able to save herself if she went out there. The sigils carved in her leg were starting to glow slightly. So she took a deep breath. 

“Whimsy you need to take Tom to the place we discussed. The wards will not hold unless I can activate them.” 

“No.” Tom held his practice wand in his hand. “We're not leaving you, you're coming with us.” 

Hermione vomited down her robe black and gold. The time dust she had put into her seal… the golden sand that had been in her bloodstream. Her body shimmered. 

Tom looked at her again and she could see tears forming in his pretty dark eyes. She had not seen him cry in a very long time. 

“I need to fix the seal…” She wiped at her mouth, gripping onto the chair and trying to pull herself onto her feet. “I’m dead if I don’t and I don’t have time to argue with you Tomas.” 

“I will do the wards.” He said suddenly straightening up his face was a very determined one. “It will give you time to try and fix whatever this seal is.” 

He took the kitchen dish towel and wiped the blood off the floor with it and ran out the back door. The wards were slammed into again. 

“Tom!” She barked at him but he didn’t listen to her. 

~/*\~ 

`````I’m dead if I don’t fix the seal`````

The words rang in his ears as he made his way out into the yard. 

His feet just moved him. He didn’t think that he ever ran so fast. 

He had to buy her time to save herself. 

He couldn’t lose her. 

Their house had hundreds of priceless books, and knowledge that could not be lost if they broke through. 

It was his home, and he wouldn’t run from it. 

He had something worth protecting even if he was just adopted into this life.

Even if he was not really her son, she was the only one to ever care for him like that. 

She even though she could be selfish and didn’t trust him fully was the only person that he had ever loved with everything that he had.

He wouldn’t lose her… 

~/*\~

She gripped the banister, there was a trail of blood, she wondered how much was left inside of her.

She could hardly stand and she was leaving bloody handprints against everything that she touched. 

She almost felt bad for doing so…

It would never come out of the carpet. 

She vomited again and the gold faded as it hit the ground. 

She closed her eyes, blinking out the tears that disrupted them. Fighting the burning as her body felt as if it was melting. She was sweating and it made her grip even looser on the stairwell. She needed to get up to the bathroom. She needed her knife.

~/*\~

The world was oddly silent animal wise. There was no breeze, no sound but the humming and the harsh thuds against the barrier. He nearly fell on his sprint towards the boundaries. 

It was dark but even in the dark he could see the shimmering of the shield, the orange light shimming with every hit from a few robed individuals. He waved his stolen wand quickly and the holly wand’s wood felt slick in his hand. It listened to him lighting up the lanterns on the fence posts in a line that went all the way down the yard and towards the woods. The lights looped the property, bathing the back yard all the way to the front with a dull blue and yellow glow. It gave enough light to see more clearly the faces behind the shield. 

It was cracking. 

Their voices were muffled behind the thick protection spells that were being ripped slowly apart from where they were tightly woven together. Hermione had woven as many into one complex arching array. One that she had taught him. She had shown how she would activate should there ever be a need for the last line of defense. 

He could still save it all. 

His heart rammed in his chest with the knowledge that he had one shot at this, and if he failed the house would be destroyed. They were already pushing against the outer layer. 

The lanterns flickered like fireflies and he moved closer to the boundary till his foot was mere inches from it. There were dozens of people looking at him now. 

He could feel her magic all around him, it buzzed with life and purpose. Like electrical currents, it gave him a soft shock as his hair blushed it as he knelt down by the small stones by the mailbox and rang the rag out onto the stones. Hermione’s blood coated the runes and they started to give off a faint reddened glow. 

The glow started to spread through the cracks in the soil and he could see complex lines slowly being brought to the surface on the flatter part of their yard. 

He moved to the center of the rings that showed the largest webs 

_“Securus Salutem tutum”_

He spoke as clearly as he could slowly, feeling the pull of the magic.

~/*\~ 

Hermione climbed the stairs towards the bathroom. She needed the enchanted knife. Whimsy had agreed to get her the vile she had hidden in the potions cabinet, it held the remaining quantity of the time sand she had collected from stolen and bought illegally time turners. She had to remake the symbol. 

And yet she couldn’t climb the stairs…

She was going to die at the bottom of them. 

One shaky step after another. 

Whimsy hadn’t found the sand yet. 

Her foot slipped. 

And she tumbled back towards the bottom. Her body was fading and it was starting to age, but then rapidly decreased in age. She went from being in her early teens back to twenty and towards what she no doubt would look like at 42 and then older and then back to the start. 

It might already be too late…

She was falling apart…

Breaking apart…

She looked again at the stairs, her vision swimming. It was getting worse. Her arms were giving way as she forced herself again onto shaking feet. 

She wanted to live.

She never wanted something so much before.

She wanted to live with Tom...

~/*\~

His Hermione knew what she was doing when she had created this because those that were at the border of the shield were stepping away fearfully. Tom could feel the array borrowing some of his magic to complete the enchantments. He felt a little dizzy by it. He couldn’t fall though, he had to stay standing. 

_“Securus Salutem tutum”_

He repeated the incantation. 

The arrays were now golden and the shield had knitted itself with a bright and very powerful stream of magic, the very core of it, the power coming from Tom’s stolen wand. Tom had never felt something so powerful. It took both his hands to keep it upright feeding the shield. And he knew that it was the power of her blood and his magic. 

The wand started to crack the wood peeling away from the unicorn hair in the center of it. He repeated the words near screaming them for the last time, as his hair blew back from the push of magic and his feet slid against the grass. 

_“Securus Salutem tutum”_

~/*\~ 

Hermione made it to the top and a few steps forward before she collapsed. 

There was nothing left to give.  
Nothing left at all to push with.

She tried, yes, curled her fingers into the carpet of the hall but there was nothing left to even pull herself forward. She closed her eyes. 

Giving in to the feeling of the burning. 

Giving in to the melting of time around her. 

The world sounded like static, and crinkling of plastic. 

~/*\~ 

Tom rushed back into the house, there was a trail of blood it led towards the stairs. He stepped over a pool if it. And he felt his heart humming in his chest, adrenaline picking back up again. 

No.

Please be okay.

He scampered up the stairs nearly slipping on the droplets. 

Whimsy was next to her holding something.

She was face down on the carpet. 

He tried to push at her side, but his hands passed through. 

She was fading in and out like that spirit had and he suddenly realized that whatever this was, was the end result that led to its manifestation. She was aging and de-aging in front of him. Old to young and back again. 

The pretty girl that he had seen in his dreams showed herself and disappeared to an older form. 

“Hermione.” He spoke her name softly and she did not respond. “How do I fix this!” He demanded. 

Her head turned a little towards him. He could see her brown eyes, the ones that he had once thought were like his. He could see himself in her eyes. She reached out for him.

~/*\~ 

Ṫ̷͕̙̈́̋̚o̴̙̹̱͚̐m̷͚͊͘͝ Her last thoughts danced and she did not know if it came out vocally. 

How to tell him all that she wanted to at that moment….

All the things she had never been able to tell him.

How to tell him how much he meant to her.

She wanted to tell him that it would be okay. 

She would at least get to see Ron again and meet Rose. 

She closed her eyes and felt herself completely let go. 

~/*\~

She vanished, like the badly recorded version that he had seen before. 

She was gone. 

Completely gone. 

As if she had never been there. 

He turned to Whimsy as she put a hand on his shoulder, he wanted to throw her off. 

But even in his disbelief and indescribable emotions he could see that she was holding something, it sparkled in the lights of the hallway. He slowly took it from the weeping elf as she held onto him. 

“She said she needed it.” Whimsy managed between gasps. 

It was golden powder, no sand. It was beautiful in a way as he had never seen anything like it. But there was a label. In very fine letters across the top of the vile. 

**Time Dust.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> W̸̢͖͙̲͍̦͗e̵̢̛͙̮̝̋͗̏͝͠r̶̫͙̱̻͚̺̈́̓̄ͅę̶̪̯͙̜̪̈́͘ ̷̢̘̲̱̭̘̅̿͋̇g̶͚̯̺̍ͅê̷͈̬̇͗̕t̷̗̪̽̾̒t̸͙͎̅̆̄̀͝ḯ̵͍͔͓̱̞̲̊͐͛͠n̵̟͇͉͙̮͌͑̋̈́̂̅̂g̴̲̗̯̟̲̻̹͊̎͘ ̵̣͙̄͝c̶̟̯͛̊͐̐̏̃͘͜l̶̹̀̀͂͒̄̂o̶̧̙͌̓͂̂̈̚s̸̯̥̺̬͙̒̉̒̃͂͜͜ẹ̶̡̡͕͍̬͉̑̿̐̚r̵̮͎̙̭̋̉̎̈͛͘ ̸̯̖̉͌t̵̲̞͔̞͋͂͑̓̽͠͠ö̶̡̼̮͉͖̩͜ ̷̢̯̤̥͘t̸̢̡̞͙̙̙̾̈́͒̈́͝h̷̰̪͌̎̿̂͛e̸̬̫̞͎͍̊̂ ̴̡̨͖̰̺̣̝̏ě̷̝͙̝̲̤̬̥̄̃ņ̵̞̭͉̩͒d̴̬̼̥̫͆̇̅̇̕ͅͅ
> 
> l̶e̷t̸ ̶t̵h̴e̵ ̵c̸o̵u̷n̸t̵ ̵d̶o̷w̷n̴ ̷b̸e̵g̵i̴n̴ ̷


	27. Part XXVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all the predictions, but I am happy that I have subverted all of those expectations. I pride myself on being a bit unpredictable.

Outside there was a blue shield that shimmered in the night sky, underneath a red moon. The brightness of the hue showed greatly among the stars. The lights that lined the property they flickered with the slight wind that was picking up. There were clouds drifting slowly across the skyline as to cover the brightest of lights. There were no sounds, not the animals, not the people that were robed and sitting away from the glow of the protective barrier. Stars twinkled and the lights across the property blew out with a wave of a powerful Wizard’s hand. 

He held tightly onto a wand that he had taken from the bedroom drawer. It was a wand that had done horrible things. The curved wood sung to him of the murders that it had committed and the blood that it had drawn. It wanted more of that and the person holding it now, welding it promised those things to it. Should it lend him it’s aid. 

There had never been another wand besides his own that felt like it belonged in his hand. The patchy road was bathed in darkness, the lights of wands were quickly brought up only to be extinguished one by one, by flashes of bright light. Strong curses that sliced through limbs, and burned flesh. Nothing was off-limits to use. 

Flashes of green, flashes of powerful red. There were screams that echoed down the quiet country road. But they were all silenced one by one, by the wand or by the fangs of a snake that wrestled one of the fleeing ones to the ground. He leaves nothing alive, he makes sure they are all dead. Because he does not seek answers from them, he knows enough to guess their reasons, their purpose. 

And since he feels nothing but anger, he takes it all out on them. He hits them with a fury that gods would be jealous of. He does all these things without mercy, without words, and he doesn’t stop until it's over. And then that fire burns down to a flicker, and then out like a dying ember. 

The person that did all this watches when it is all said and done from the spot by the mailbox till the sun rose over the hills that made up their land. Lets light rise to give sight to the carnage that he has created in his inescapable anger and grief. He is bleeding and the others’ blood is caked on his face. Not even looking at the bodies that laid in the gravel road. He blinks at them, watching the flies and other disgusting bugs make their way to feast on the soon to be rotting corpses. 

And he felt nothing. 

Nothing at all even at something that would turn others' stomachs. 

He soaks up the sun. 

Knowing perhaps what he had feared as a child and perhaps an early teen is true and has come to pass. There are ways to go bad and he has become the things that others fear. He has become something dark that perhaps he had always been fighting against, he has given into the anger and the impulsiveness. His very nature.

It's wrong he knows. 

He just doesn’t care. 

His tired brown eyes blinked and he could hardly feel them with how tired he was. The snake that was near him wrapped tightly around the fence posts. Her white scales stained brown and coated with splashes. She lets out a very low hiss. That he doesn't know if it is meant to be comforting or if it's supposed to be a reminder that she is there. 

He reaches out a hand and pets her, his familiar. The only one that he knows he can trust with anything and all of his secrets. He wants nothing more than to forget this night, he wants to wake up. But it's as if his body is rooted in this spot. It's locked onto the knowledge of a few things. Things that answered what he was looking to understand for years. And even if he is uncertain about hundreds of things, he is sure of some of them. 

Hermione Granger is not his mother, she is someone that has been messing with time, and she is gone but not completely because he has seen her. He can remember now seeing a spirit popping up more than the few times that he knows for certain that he has seen her.

She is scattered across time and he doesn’t know how to get her back.

He vanishes the evidence. Even if more than half of him thinks he should just leave the bodies there as a warning to leave him alone. But he knows that there are bound to be people that come looking, come snooping, and he doesn't, despite everything, want to go to Azkaban. 

He takes nothing but the wands because he finds that if it is not his own that he ruins them. And he can not use his wonderful yew wand unless he wants others to find out. He then takes himself inside and sits in a chair that has Hermione’s bloody handprints on it. 

Whimsy has on his request collected up as much of the blood as she can and stored it for him as he will need it to make sure the wards stay up. She is working on erasing the traces of the rest of it. But Tom can still see it, no matter how he closes his eyes.

He can see her falling to her knees, he sees her blood pooling next to the very chair that he is sitting in and he hears her begging him not to get involved as he leaves to put up the shields. 

He grabs at his arms, his fingers curling into the fabric of his robes, and finally breaks down for the only person that he has ever felt loved him. 

Truly loved him…

And probably would be the only one to love him still if they were to find out what he has done.

~/*\~

It's Whimsy that pulls him from the chair in the kitchen and leads him up the stairs. He can feel her hands on him but they are not really registering. 

Nothing is.

He can hear owls screeching by the windows in the backyard but he has not the strength to fully commit to trying to open the letters from people that are no doubt concerned. Because he doesn’t have the answers and even if he had them, he would not tell them what his Hermione had been up to. 

Whimsy cleans him off and starts the bath and he sits there trying to sort everything out. He watches the flow of the water and can feel the heat under his fingertips. He does get in and sinks into the water.

Time dust…

He didn’t know much about Time Travel. 

He leans his head against the porcelain the water around him darkens to a light pink hue and he feels along the long but shallow cut on his arm. He washes the rest of the blood away from it and traces the scab that has formed with his fingers. It all doesn’t feel real.

It is like any minute he will wake from this nightmare, but it continues on even as the water starts to get cold. A few tears fell out of his eyes. He had to be going crazy. 

Her letters words echoed in his head. 

_I hope that you can forgive me for keeping you in the dark… God Tom, you don’t know how much I want to tell you some things but don’t know how to. Because I am selfishly holding onto the idea that the less you know that better, the happier that you will be…._

What had she been hiding from him? 

It had to have been bigger than having books that she should never have had. The Hobbit being one nameable example. 

His eyes slid shut and he took in a very deep breath. 

~/*\~

ιт ωαѕ ѕтαтι¢ αη∂ ησтнιηg ωαѕ ¢ℓєαя ιη нєя νιѕιση. 

Please someone help!

………….H

……………..E

…………………..L

………………………..P

It was as if the world was ripped and splintered apart. 

ѕнє ¢συℓ∂ ησт ƒυℓℓу вяєαтнє αѕ ιт ωαѕ ραιηƒυℓ тσσ. Her form shimmered and was pulled, her young self moving onto older and back to normal. 

Where was she? It looked like a backyard, tall grass, and a shed were visible. 

Sнє ∂ι∂η'т кησω нσω ѕнє нα∂ gσттєη нєяє. 

She reached to grip onto herself to hold onto something and blood covered her hands. 

ɬɧɛ Ɩąʂɬ ɬɧıŋɠ ʂɧɛ ཞɛɱɛɱცɛཞɛɖ ῳąʂ...

ʂɧɛ ŋɛɛɖɛɖ ɬơ ʄıҳ ɬɧɛ ʂɛąƖ.

ყɛʂ, ɬɧąɬ ῳąʂ ῳɧąɬ ʂɧɛ ῳąʂ ɬཞყıŋɠ ɬơ ɖơ. 

She moved, limping her way towards the door. 

ʂɧɛ ŋɛɛɖɛɖ ɬơ ʄıҳ ɬɧɛ ʂɛąƖ.

ㄒㄖ爪 was in front of her. 

What was he doing here? 

T̶̢͈̂͗͛͂̅̉̆͠o̷̮͔̐͗͂̎̚͠m̴̛̯͑̓͗̆͊͛̈́̆͜

She tried to speak to him. 

ʂɧɛ ŋɛɛɖɛɖ ɬơ ʄıҳ ɬɧɛ ʂɛąƖ.

ɘbɒᎸ oƚ bɘƚɿɒƚꙅ ɘʜꙅ

ⱧɆⱠ₱ s

She felt terror fill her.

She needed it. 

“Help how?” His voice echoed… 

She closed her eyes, feeling as if she was being ripped apart all over again. 

~/*\~ 

Tom ignored the owls that were now making their way up onto the second floor and tapping at his window. He dressed slowly, wrapping his injured arm, and started his investigation in the one place that he had always wanted to get past the wards of and get to the books. He had the power now, of that he was sure. He had gotten her to teach him of her wards and he never had been happier that he had insisted on it. It had been something sneaky and manipulative, he knew that to pretend to be intreated just to sneak past her wards and read what he wasn’t supposed to, but it just may be the only thing that could save her now. 

He pressed his hand firmly against the barrier and pressed with his magic forward, feeling it as it compressed, the shock was nothing and he managed to get towards the thinly drawn line and brush against it. The ward shattered into tiny blue fragments of magic that he watches dance in the air like falling snow that faded as they hit the carpet. 

The first thing he did was reach for the photo album. He knew that there were other things that would be more productive to look into but he couldn’t help it. 

He needed to see. 

He needed to know. 

The first picture was a colored photo of a little girl with brown hair she was holding onto two larger people's hands. They were all smiling and Hermione had missing front teeth. The next few pictures were of her in a school’s uniforms and birthdays with pretty cakes and her parents. The following page was her excitedly pointing at an owl and in its beak was a letter. One that Tom would recognize anywhere. The symbol was impossible to miss. 

She went to Hogwarts…

And he suddenly felt stupid, the hat had told him that. 

_So I shall not place you with lions even if the one you call mother certainly was one._

She was a Gryffindor and he could see her in her school robes hugging two boys. She looked so happy. He didn’t think that he had ever seen such a large and goofy smile on her face, or it had been years later. One almost looked like him with glasses and a lightning bolt scar. He took a look at the photo. 

1991 

The date shocked him and he dropped the photo. He almost wanted to close the book and just get away from it, holding it felt like it was burning his fingers.

What has she been running from that seemed it necessary to jump so far into the past?

~/*\~ 

tｈ𝕖 ᕼαĻＬ ωÃ𝕤 ｄａⓡҜ. รĤẸ 匚συㄥ𝔡 ђⓐŕđ𝕝Ў ⓜⒶҜ€ Ｏᑌｔ Ť𝔥𝔼 ｓｔά𝕚Ⓡ𝐒, Ŝнᗴ 𝓜𝐨ν𝓔ｄ 𝐔Ｐ Ŧ𝐇𝐄м 𝓌Į丅h out 𝓈乇卂𝓡ᶤภᵍ קάĮ𝔫 

She felt as if she was going to fall, but she needed to make it to the…. 

░w░h░a░t░ ░w░a░s░ ░s░h░e░ ░d░o░i░n░g░ ░a░g░a░i░n░.░.░.░

She needed to fix the seal that was right.

She was bleeding out. 

ʂɧɛ ŋɛɛɖɛɖ ɬơ ʄıҳ ɬɧɛ ʂɛąƖ.

“Who are you?” She turned dizzily to the voice. She saw a boy standing there. He looked familiar. She reached for him. 

She didn’t know why but everything told her that she had to hold him. 

丂ん乇 mﾉ丂丂乇り んﾉm

She felt him against her fingertips for a second before she felt that pull again.

No, she didn’t want to leave….

𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕙𝕚𝕞 

And the world again went black. 

~/*\~

He looked through the rest of the book there were wedding photos and a baby announcement party. He can see the pink and the pictures of the nursery paintings. And then it just ended and all there was left was a small card tucked in not even put into the actual plastic protective sheets. It was an obituary for Ronald Weasley and a clipping of the article from the attack. He burned to death… And Hermione’s fear of fire was never clearer, never more understandable. 

She had vials with memories too. Things that were covered with dust hidden on the shelves that had been enchanted to be deeper and there were lots of things that he would be forced to drag himself through if he wanted to piece together the life of her. 

~/*\~

It became clear to him, the more that he dug through, Hermione Granger had had a hard life. She had lost near every person that she had ever loved or cared for by a dark lord that had consumed her life. Voldemort whoever he was, she had a lot of things that were related to him. He didn’t have enough time to dive into trying to figure everything about the future. He closed his eyes trying to recall all that she had told him about her past battles, but she didn’t give him enough to exactly know anything other than he or his people was long gone. Did that mean that they won or did that mean that she had fled them? 

None of this answered for sure his most burning question of why she had jumped through time and decided to mess with it, nor did it answer the reason that she had adopted him. At least not completely. Perhaps there was no other reason that she chose him than she didn’t want to be alone. But somehow he had this really bad burning feeling that was not the case. 

He ran a hand through his hair. He knew for sure that she was a time traveler but nothing about how she had managed to live as long as she had. He knew very little about time travel but knew that people tended to fall apart a lot faster than 15 years or longer when messing with it. If he wanted any hope of finding a way to stabilize her, save her, he had to lock her back to a time not necessarily the one he was part of, but to some time. And he needed to know exactly what she had done in order to attempt it. And even if he knew what steps she had taken he wasn’t sure it was possible. 

But he had to try.

He had to try to do the impossible because she had done that before for him. 

The thought of being alone…

It made his stomach turn.

The one constant in his life had always been Hermione, and he owed it to her to try. 

They had been at odds for so long, and it was his fault for that. He had not told her he knew he was adopted and let her calm his fears about it. That boggart had scared him enough to make him worry about how she might change in treating him if she knew he knew. And it all felt silly now. She would have loved him regardless. 

He made his way downstairs to the kitchen where there were about 50 letters sitting on the table. Because there were others that would be worried about Hermione, especially if the store was attacked. The question was what should he do about it?

The second that it was announced that she was missing things would hit the bludger and if she was thought to be dead, he did not know what people would try to do. Hermione had a lot of assets and he was just one of them. Own Tom and you had the enterprise for at least 2 years until he reached 17. A lot could be made in two years and Tom wouldn’t put it past a lot of people that he knew to attempt to take advantage. 

He waved his wand sending them into stacks of business, Ministry, and friends. 

“I am sorry Master Tomas, they kept coming.” Whimsy’s wet eyes looked at him. “They started coming down the chimney sir.” 

She never called him sir, but he supposed that she belonged to him now that Hermione was not here. 

“It is alright Whimsy.” He folded his hands in front of him. “I need you to go to the farm and tell them to continue business as normal. I will be going to the shop. If anyone asks, you are to tell them that Hermione is sick and that we have a healer attending to her and she will write instructions.” 

It would be their cover for now. Tom knew enough of how Hermione acted to pretend to be acting on what she asked of him. He could make this last for a few months at the very least. The shields would keep those that wanted to snoop out and Tom would not answer what he didn’t want to. 

School didn’t matter, he wouldn’t go. He would work on running the business and saving her.

“Master Tomas are you, sure sir,” Whimsy asked hesitantly. 

“Yes.” He nodded. “I will figure out a way to bring her back, we just need time to allow me to come up with a solution.” 

Whimsy looked at him like he was perhaps crazy but Tom didn’t care much for her opinion she didn’t know what was really going on and as such the look meant nothing. He trusted her vow of service to keep her loyal and he could use that loyalty now. He summoned his quills and ink. Starting with a report for the ministry of Grindelwald’s attack and answering confused and worried workers. He assured them still of jobs though potion-making would wait and they would help with repairs. 

Tom then personally made an appearance to the shop, hitching a ride with Whimsy as he was unable to apparate. It was something that he would have to solve. The only person that might be okay with breaking the rules and could help him with acquiring the skill was Oswin. But he and Hermione had once been close, Tom had wanted nothing to do with him. 

He set them about tasks, avoided questions, and was cold to anyone that thought to try and make their way into the remains of the front room. He again proved himself to be a competent leader, helping to direct and rebuild. He didn’t know if the work would matter. He used magic in front of the others, and he tore up the ticket that showed itself in front of him for underage magic. Fine him he didn’t care. He had reasons and he would like to see them try and stop him. 

“If they think I give a flying owl about being expelled when people are out to hurt those that Herm- my mother and I care for then they have another thing coming.” He told Lavorx as he went over the numbers. 

“There isn’t enough gold to deal with some of the losses that we suffered.” Lavorx shook his head, his sharp teeth grinding a little together.

“Cancel some of the more expensive potions to make, were discontinuing them till further notice.” Tom sighed, it was more and more bad news.

“It might cause us to have those that go unemployed because of this…” Larvox started.

“Sir.” Milly stood in the door. “Most of us elves took pay only to appease Hermione. We would be fine if the kitchens and rooms were still available. Would this help with costs.”

Tom nodded gratefully. “It would.” 

“I will help to brew back the potions that were destroyed.” Mox stepped up. “I don’t need days off, don’t know much about what to do with myself when I have time off.” 

“We can provide guard.” Madrid nodded from his corner of the room. “We can post ourselves at night to watch the store and close the front room. Grindelwald came into the store, but we can make it so that after normal business hours are closed and none can come past wards.” 

“Warding the shelves to protect more than theft will save us if there is another attack.” Larvox agreed. “Anti heat, cold, and shatterproof enchantments would help protect future merchandise. I know a few goblins that owe me favors that I can call in.”

“These will all be helpful.” Tom bowed his head. “Thank you all for your sacrifices and understanding at this time.” 

“Of course!” Milly shook her head holding onto her husband’s hand. “We love it here. Hermione has done so much for us.” 

Bleft leaned on Milly moving so that he was holding onto more than her hand. “She has moved mountains for people like us. I think that it is only right that we give back.”

“Tell her to get well soon and to heal up.” A few of the other workers added. 

Tom left late. 

Talking to people wore him out, he didn’t like smiling at them. It felt like a chore. These were people that Hermione valued though, and if he were to get her back and the family business was destroyed beyond measure he was sure that she would be devastated. So he did what he had to for appearances and for her sake.

He almost felt bad for having to have Whimsy take him home. But most things were settled and he wouldn’t have to go that way for a long time. He kept that as a hopeful thought. But as he was away from the shop and the people that lived there, he could not help but think that Grindelwald could just come stomping back through as he had done before if that was what he wanted to do and there would be little they could do to stop him.

~/*\~ 

He can't sleep, which is something new, because he usually finds himself able to sleep nearly a few minutes after he has laid himself down.

All he had to be was tired enough.

But every time he shut his eyes he would see her falling apart. 

He would see her reaching for him and the blood. All the blood. Blood had never bothered him before and yet it haunted him. The handprints were everywhere in his head. The puddle a crimson stain that would never come out of the carpets. As he laid there the way that his bed was allowed for him to look into the hall. And all he could think was how she had tried to climb the stairs to get to the medical box and how she had died there. She didn’t summon it to her… She was a Witch she should have summoned it. He doesn’t know if this would have saved her. He can't judge her. She had to have been panicking and she was bleeding out. 

And he was too late. 

If anything it was partially his fault. He should have forced her to tell him what she needed for the seal. He should have let the place burn. Taken her and what she needed to the safe house. Anything and he would have done it if it meant that she would still be here. 

He rubbed at his face there are no tears because he has shed them but his heart has turned to lead in his chest. It was hard for it to beat and it felt like it had sunk somewhere deep inside of him along with nearly all of his emotions. It was as if his chest were some sort of ocean and it had gone all the way to the bottom, where there was no warmth and no light. 

The house was that now, just as empty of a shell with no one to wake up and share the mornings with, no one to talk to, no one to hug or feel really comforted by. It was just empty, and he felt just as empty. 

Hermione had been the only real person to ever make him feel that full range of emotions. She brought color to a world of dull grays and blues. He could do anger easily and annoyance, he could feel those anywhere and any place. There were rare occasions that he could not that anyone besides Hermione had made him happy.

With her He never had to guess what she was feeling, he just knew. It had never been that way with anyone else. He was always second-guessing social cues. Wanting to shove others away as he worried about them getting to close that they would leave him. 

Hermione was the only one that he knew never would. She loved him despite the horrible things that he had done and he took comfort in knowing that she would. 

And Grindelwald had taken her from him. Left him alone to sort through all these emotions alone. 

At first, there had been immense anger that one was easy to understand he had felt that before. And then there had been a numbness, an emptiness. He had been numb to things like violence before, but this was a new kind of numb. And now he felt as if there were cracks in his numbness, the shield that had been protecting him for the last few hours. Because the sunlight had evaporated from his reach and all that he was left with was resounding loneliness. 

~/*\~

Days pass as he digs through Hermione’s things pulling as much information as he can from tome after tome. Time travel is complex and he can not believe that she was able to jump so far into the past. The information is limited from the books that he reads, and he is sure that she came up with some of her own ideas that are not in the books of how to root herself to the past. 

It's a slow process. 

He doesn’t want it to be slow. 

~/*\~

By day 6 he knows there is something wrong with him with the limited sleep that he has been getting. He forces food down his throat and he goes back to work. He ignored the worried looks that Whimsy gave him. He answers a few letters and he continues on.

He is a mess. 

He knows this. 

But nothing matters but getting her back. 

~/*\~ 

He has seen her again. She is in a loop, he knows it now. She enters either in the yard or somewhere in the house and then dies… not he can't think that word. She disappears when she gets up the stairs. 

He has to find a way to lock her down during one of these brief instances that he sees her. The problem is he doesn’t know a status spell strong enough to do that. And he doesn’t know the final result of what her seal is supposed to look like. He doesn’t know if he can make her solid enough to attempt to draw it. 

There are still more journals and things to look through. 

He dares to hope he will find something useful. 

~/*\~

It's a few days before September 1st and he should feel more than he does knowing that he won’t be going back to Hogwarts. Even though horrible things have happened to him when he was in that place he still feels like it is a second home. And he knows that he will miss Myrtle and Edgar but they will have each other and he knows that they are strong enough to handle whatever is sent their way. They did not need him anymore. 

He sighs as he pulls himself up from Hermione’s bed. The task is getting a lot harder. He is in a state of near-permanent tiredness. He likes her room better because it feels warmer somehow, and he used to crawl in there for comfort. Perhaps it is creepy of him, but he has taken to sleeping with her pillow wrapped in his arms, it smells like her perfume, just slightly and like home. The bedroom is also closer to the library where he spends near all his time now. 

He drags himself to the bathroom, trying to start the day at a decent hour. He can’t recognize himself in the mirror. He has reddened eyes, and his hair finally has achieved that wild look that Hermione had without even trying. It's getting longer as if it grows with the stress that he is under. He pulls at it, and it gets in the way when he is writing. 

There is the sound of banging and he doesn’t register it at first but it's the shield. The wards are being pressed against. He calls Hermione’s second wand to him, the curved one that has done all the evil with him that he knows cements his dedication to eradicating anyone that works for Grindelwald. It wouldn’t be the first, second, or third group of people he has dispatched. Yet they usually have enough sense to try and come at night. 

He throws on a dirty robe over the clothes that he slept in. They are not exactly nightclothes, but are wrinkled and if it is someone that he has to look half presentable for it will help. There is a man that is on the other side of the wards. He is wearing bright violet and gold. He knows who the old man is before he gets to the edge of the barrier.

“What do you want?” He doesn’t even try to be civil. He doesn’t want to see the other. He is always too noisy for his own good, and Tom knows that he thinks that he is going down the wrong path. 

Dumbledore does not seem to have taken his tone as hostile. He just smiles politely as if Tom has wished him a good morning. 

“It is good to see you, Tom.” He says it nicely, and his eyes sparkle in that way that Tom can’t tell if he hates or missed. “Can I come in so that we can talk?”

Tom rubbed as his tired eyes with the back of his hand. “Depends on what you want to talk about.” He straightens up. He knows that he can not look well-composed, not with the way that he looks. But he can at least show that he will not be intimidated. 

“The upcoming school year among other things.” The man bows his head in a way that Tom knows he means the underaged magic and perhaps a hint to Hermione. 

“I can not let you past the wards. You will have to be appreciated by Whimsy.” Tom folds his arms tightly to himself feeling the wand that is in his sleeve. 

“These are really impressive protection enchantments.” Dumbledore felt along the barrier and it bent ever so slightly. Tom knew then just how powerful the man was because not even he could do that. “But things that are powered by blood tend to be. Is it yours or Hermiones that is being used?”

“Hermione’s.” He answers perhaps foolishly but calling her his mother feels weird knowing all that he knows. She is not related to him in any way. She adopted him, and he was pretty sure it was illegally because he can not find real records of himself other than foraged ones. 

“But your magic. It has your signature.” Dumbledore nodded his head seeming to get lost in his thoughts for a moment. “Please, have Whimsy bring me over.” 

Tom sighs calling Whimsy and she appears with a crack. She looks very tired, older than she has ever looked at him. Tom knows that she has been crying a lot lately and is worried that he is going mad. She has tried to talk him out of his work, insisting that Hermione is gone, but Tom will not listen to her.

“Please bring Dumbledore past the wards.” He instructs her.

“Yes, Master Tomas.” She nodded her head and a few pops later the older man was standing near him. 

“Thank you.” He means it, but he knows there is no way to make his voice really sound like it. “Please can you put on some tea as well.” 

She nodded again and made her way slowly to the house. 

“You are past the wards, but since you are not keyed here I can remove you easily,” Tom warns him. He feels like he needs to. 

“I have no doubt that you can.” The old man agrees easily with him. “But I do not think I will give you reason to do so.” 

“Good.” He makes his way towards the house holding the door open for his unexpected guest. One that perhaps he would have to go to eventually, as he was running out of ideas on how to create a status strong enough to trap Hermione. 

Dumbledore sits at the table across from him and Whimsy gives them a teacup and biscuit each before retreating towards her closet. 

“Tom there have been numerous letters coming into the headmaster's office that you have been using magic outside of school.” 

Tom laughed, it cruel he knows, but he could not help himself. “Of course I have been. Almost every single student that goes to that bloody school does over the holidays. I would say though mine might have been more of a necessity as there were more of Grindelwald's followers knocking on my door. I care little about being expelled at this point.”

“Yes but the Ministry saw you doing repairing spells and you haven’t bothered to respond to the fines.” Dumbledore looked at him levelly. 

“And I don’t care, what are they going to do, arrest me because I had to make sure that the business was secure and our employees wouldn’t be attacked again?” Tom shook his head. “It's all a load of garbage those laws and you know it.” 

“That might be true but they are still rules that need to be followed, at least when others can see you.” 

“Let this be my protest to that then.” Tom snipped. “I don’t care much about what they want when they can't protect anyone. The Auras are useless and the Ministry is weak with fear of upsetting pureblood families. They care for money, not lives, and no one will convince me otherwise.” 

Dumbledore’s face fell a little. “Is protection what you call some of the spells that I was able to detect outside your wards.” 

He could deny it but Dumbledore already knew, and Tom didn’t think that the other could do much about it.

“No, I would call that swift justice.” Tom let anger bleed into his tone. “They came here to murder those that matter to me, and they partially succeeded.” 

Dumbledore looked at him as if he was looking into his soul. “Is death a real justice, to those that follow him.” 

“It's the one that ensures that they won’t go out and kill more people,” Tom said evenly. “I am not claiming that it is the only way to deal with them. But considering that their boss was the one that attacked Hermione I can tell you they were not here for a chat. I didn’t have much choice in the matter. I was a little pressured for time and outnumbered.”

Dumbledore held his teacup to him. He looked sad and older than he had looked when he had walked up the shields. He’s blue-silver eyes looked at the table more than they looked at him. His head bowed a little and he gave a sigh that sounded like a defeated man would give. 

“Where is Hermione? Tom.” 

He doesn’t respond right away, it is again that feeling as if the air has been stolen from him. It's the pain that comes back when he thinks too long about it. He knows that it shows on his face because Dumbledore was already looking like he had an understanding of the situation. The look makes him want to curse him. Because Hermione is not dead. He knows that. 

Even if no one wants to believe him. 

“She's not dead.” He hisses.

“I didn’t say she was, where is she though?” Dumbledore said calmly. His hand doesn’t even move towards his sleeve which Tom knows has his wand. 

“I don’t know.” He says honestly the anger sucked out of him, replaced with tiredness. “I can guess, but I have no way of getting her back at the moment.” 

“Was she taken?” The old man is sitting up in his seat now. His eyes are harsh and Tom doesn’t know if it's because Hermione is his friend, if he is blaming himself for not stopping Grendelwald sooner, or if he is upset just because Tom is.

Tom blinks tired eyes, holding his head up by his hands. He doesn’t know how to vocalize what he knows and he doesn’t want to tell the old man too much. The teacup now seems so much more interesting and he stares at his tea bag as it bobs by the movements he is making on the table. 

“Hermione was messing with time. She is from a future not too far from our own. She created a way to stay hidden in this time, the seal as she called it was damaged, and she is now spread across time and space. She is in a loop.” He dares to look up at Dumbledore. “She comes back randomly without pattern along the time that she has lived in this house to complete the loop of trying to get to the bathroom where she bleeds out and disappears.” 

“Tom, you realize that means she is probably dead, it is a ghost that is going through the motions.” Dumbledore starts.

“She is not dead.” He finds himself on his feet near-instantly, his hands slamming into the table with his effort, rattling the teacups. He can't help how angry it makes him. “She leaves her blood on the floor and she asks me for help. It's impacting the way in which I remember the past. I have seen her more and more. You know what that means.” 

“That there could be a hole ripped into time itself, where either time will fix itself and she will have never existed or things like our very reality could be torn apart…” Dumbledore's knowledge about things was now looking like he had received the worst news possible. 

Tom didn’t feel bad about delivering it. 

“I can’t forget her.” He says it to himself more than Dumbledore.

“If you are to fix this time anomaly you just might.” The old man looks at him with saddened eyes. 

“I can not forget her,” Tom repeats, this time a bit stronger. “You don’t know what it's like not to be able to feel a full range of emotions. She taught me to care for people, and if I don’t remember her I will not remember how to do that.”

“You should have more faith in yourself, Tom.” Dumbledore starts. 

“I have no empathy, not really.” Tom looked straight ahead. “I can do horrible things and I will not be bothered by it other than it can inconvenience me. Inconvenience those that help to fill in the voids that I have in emotions. I would be a monster without her to hold me back and make me think. She is the only one that I care for.” He glances towards the window. “If you do not wish to help me to save her, then you can leave. I am not going back to Hogwarts. I don’t need it. The ministry can try to drag me to Askaband if you tell them what Hermione is, or what I am or have been doing. I don’t care. I will win any fight that comes my way. I have plenty of wands should they try to snap mine.” 

“She can not be allowed to wander the timeline, spirit, or not.” Dumbledore lets out the deepest of breaths that Tom has ever heard. 

“Does that mean that you are going to help me?” Tom presses him, not daring to give in to the first real feeling of hope he has felt in nearly 2 months.

“Yes, I will help you. I am making no promises that we can do more than stop her from suffering this loop over and over.” Dumbledore has locked his fingers in front of him in a very business-like fashion. “I know that Grief can destroy a person or focus them. Tom, you can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and are left to your presumption alone. But I promise you that you are not alone unless you make it so. There are others that care for you and perhaps you can come to care for as well.” He shakes his head and his white beard moves closer to his teacup with it. Everything has had meaning. By the end of this, I hope that you can realize this. Perhaps it scares you that you have taken the love and laughter of each day, and didn't allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it. And it makes you feel empty that it is gone, but there are other things to consider and be grateful if the time comes for what preceded the loss. Be prepared for that loss. And the ache may always be there. I know that better than you may think but one day, not the emptiness, because to nurture the emptiness, to take solace in it, is to disrespect the gift of life and she wouldn’t have wanted that from you.”

His words stung and were little comfort, but it did bring the reality of it into focus. He could fix the loop and end her suffering and he might not have her back at all. He could not speak so he only nodded. 

~/*\~

Work continues slowly. But he finds the symbol that she would have drawn on herself. He makes educated assumptions on how much time dust that he will need to save her. He sends letters to Dumbledore and receives them. Letter after letter different arrays and spells that might be able to anchor her and proposed and adjustments made. 

His birthday passes, and so does nearly all of what would be considered winter break. By the end of it. Tom has what he needs from Dumbledore and is ready to save her.

He just has to set up and hope that she appears in the right place to step onto the runes that he is going to have to draw. He looks over the papers in front of him. 

He doesn’t know what he will do if this fails. 

~/*\~

ʂɧɛ Ɩơơƙɛɖ ąཞơųŋɖ ɬɧɛ ɛɱ℘ɬყ ɧơųʂɛ ąŋɖ ɱơ۷ɛɖ ɬơῳąཞɖʂ ɬɧɛ ʂɬąıཞʂ ɧɛཞ ცƖơơɖ ɖཞı℘℘ıŋɠ ɖơῳŋ ơŋɬơ ɬɧɛ ℘ơƖıʂɧɛɖ ʄƖơơཞʂ. 

She doesn’t know much anymore, she has been doing this for far too long. 

ғﺄ𝘹 𝚝𝐡巳 ʂ巳ₐㅣ

That is what she knows, but she doesn’t even know what the seal is anymore. 

ֆɦɛ ֆɛɛֆ ǟ ɮօʏ

She sees him stand there in front of her and she doesn't remember him, not much about him. She knows that he is there often though. Through all of her loops, he is there.

She wants to be with him.

Words are not able to be spoken but she tries because he might be her last line of sanity. His face changes from older to very little, but the caring look and sadness never changes. 

Ṭ̷̩͑͆̎̃ő̸̡̞̝m̵̢̛̲̠̜̄͊̌͂̾̈́ 

She can remember to say his name. 

H͓̽e͓̽r͓̽ ͓̽T͓̽o͓̽m͓̽

“I figured out how to help you.” He says something else that she can’t understand and she feels herself being pulled to the floor. 

It hurts. 

It hurts so much.

She screams and she doesn’t know if it is able to be heard and everything goes black. 

~/*\~ 

Tom watches her freeze on the spot. 

She screams, holding onto her throat like she can’t breathe. But perhaps it is the feeling of her finally able to as she is now breathing deeply and coloration is returning to her. She looks like she is slowly gaining a more physical form. He can't believe it. If she was not screaming he might have been happy. 

She gives one last screech and collapses completely, crumples like a puppet that's strings have been severed. Her long hair obscuring her face. She is at least stuck in this time and she will stay in the status till he can complete the runes that were in her notes. 

He crosses the circle enchanted knife in hand and the time dust. He generally turns her over, she should remain asleep for this. But it doesn’t make it any easier, she looks so peaceful. Her breath soft and her arm warm to the touch. She is perhaps his age in looks, it was not exactly the age that he hoped to stop her shuffle at. Because well she was stuck at what might have been 25 for a long time and now she looks barely that. 

He can’t help it. He brushes the fluffy hair away from her face. Before he puts his tools down and uses the healing potion on the wound on her hip. He tilts his wand muttering a small healing charm. The carving she has made on herself is harsh and the lines are thick. She must have carved it into herself alone. He traces them on her thigh lightly inspecting the worse damaged area by the wound that he has now healed. He can feel the bumps to the seal and the roughness and unevenness of the depth... It's a large scar. The one that he will make will be neater and smaller at the very least. There is no way to fix the old of that he is sure. 

“Forgive me.” He tells her. 

Because he doesn’t want to cut her, he doesn’t want to carve the honey-colored flesh. He bites his lip and takes a couple of deep breaths and does what needs to be done. 

~/*\~

He takes great care cleaning the damaged flesh that he has made and then bandages it. He carries her upstairs when he is done. She deserves to rest in her bed. He lays her down on her bed carefully, he has washed all the bedding for her. He tucks her in, pulling the blankets up around her, and carefully, kisses her forehead like she used to do for him. 

She stirs and he retreats a little away from her, pulling up a chair so that he can wait for her to wake up. He takes her hand and she turns in her sleep and holds it closer to her. 

He lets out a very soft sigh. He doesn’t know what he is feeling at the moment but it feels warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter and then the epilogue/extras :D


	28. Part XXVlll

Chapter 28

There is a chilly breeze entering the room, she feels it across her face. She opens her eyes and she immediately wants to shut them because they feel as if they are not supposed to be open. She stirs, and she can see him lying face-first into the comforter. His hand is still grasping hers. His young face looks very relaxed and he has a little bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. His breathing is soft, and she feels as if she has been hit by a semi-truck at least 5 to 6 times. She sits up carefully leaning against the headboard. Trying to remember things. But it feels as if she has spent an eternity away. The room feels unfamiliar to her. He seems almost different. His hair is longer. It's tied back in a sort of terrible stub of a ponytail. It looks perhaps so bad because he has been sleeping or because he doesn’t have the skill to actually tie it.

She reaches out with the hand that he has not claimed and brushes it back, feels the silky black hair beneath her fingers, her mind putting puzzle pieces back into place, snapping them down hard and gluing them back into a perfect picture. 

This is the person that she loved. 

She had risked all of time to be with him. 

The one that helped her get through all the loops, that she knew would save her. 

She has seen him from an infant to what he is now. She tangles her fingers in his hair and feels content with touching him since she has not been able to. She has wanted to for a long time. It comforts her, reminds her that she is really here and so is he. 

He stirs, and there is the sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floor. It is then she realizes there is another chair on the other side of her. There is an old man sitting there, and she recognizes him. He is perfectly upright in his chair and well dressed. She feels underdressed if anything she feels like she isn’t wearing anything. She is in a shirt though, and she probably is wearing a skirt under the blankets. 

She knows him, the memories of him crash and burn around her like fire. She knows that he is the one that condemned her friend to death. She recognizes him as the one that would have left the boy that she is fond of alone in horrible conditions. There is a burning to hate him. But there is also a softness to his memories all the times that he was comforting to her, as the war was threatening everything she had ever known. When she had thought she was the word carved into her very arm. It was he that offered her reassurances in that medical ward her second year. She was a witch and she was worthy of her title. Nothing in her blood was wrong or unsightly. Everyone no matter the race or species bled red. 

He had taught her much, but he had also hurt her when she knew truths about him. 

“How are you feeling.” The man puts down his book. It is one that she has read a hundred times. The book is worn and it has a wonderful blue cover with a dragon on it. 

She feels her breath catch in her throat. She rubs at her eyes because she knows she is alive and somehow that realization has just hit her. It has been painful. It has been horrible and she just takes her hand from the sleeping boy and rubs at her face. 

She tried to hide the horrible sobs that wrack her chest. She can not remember the last time that she has cried so long and hard. 

No, she can. 

It is when the first love of her life died and Rose was lost as well. 

“I am alive…” She says softly between the tears. 

She knows that she should not be. It seems impossible, now that she can think about it. She should be scattered across the universe, she should have been written out of existence. And she is not dead. Part of her thinks that the universe has cheated her of resting with the people she had loved most. Because it would have been a blessing to have stopped the loops that each one progressively felt worse. But she is also grateful to be here. It means that things can improve again. It means that she has not left the boy alone. 

“Yes.” The old man nods, his voice is a bit louder than it was before. 

The boy jerks awake to the sound of it. He sits up, his eyes dart around the room before they land on her. There is a look of disbelief and then a small smile. His eyes are no longer the brown that she is used to, not really they are the color of dried blood, they have a red sheen to them. 

“Don’t cry, Hermione.” He gets to his feet, he tries to hand her a handkerchief from his pocket and gives her an awkward hug. He is fretting over her a little. And she knows him then. She remembers the cycles that she has gone through and she remembers before them one of the most important things, his name. 

“Tom.” She grips him tightly at the waist, not letting go even as he seems to want to retreat, he puts the arm with the handkerchief down. 

He smiles, it's an uneasy one. “I didn’t know if you would remember…” 

“I can’t forget you, never.” She holds onto him tighter pulling him to an odd seat that is on the edge of the bed. He seems so tall now. He brings up his arms to hug her back putting his head on top of hers. He sighs deeply and she doesn’t know for sure but she feels as if he is closing his eyes again. 

It makes her feel loved. 

She missed him.

She missed him very much. 

“I will let you rest and catch up.” The old man stands. “I really should be at the school, but I wished to talk to you and make sure that there were no lingering effects. I had advised Tom to wait until the summer holidays, but he didn’t wish to listen to me.” 

“I wasn’t going to wait another 6 months when I knew I could do it alone.” Tom hisses back. “I waited 6 months too many.” 

She releases Tom from her hold, but she has a feeling that she will not be able to hug him as she was when everything is said and done. She knows what questions he will ask when they are alone. But even so, she wants Dumbledore gone even if he did play a role in getting her back. 

“I feel that it is best that we get our conversation over with, Dumbledore while I still feel up to it. Though I would like something to drink first.” 

Her mind is scrambled but she knows enough to not tell him things that he doesn't need to know. 

“Of course.” Dumbledore agrees easily, sitting back into his chair. 

Tom hands her a glass of water and she drinks it, marveling slightly at the feeling. It is nice to be able to feel sensations and other objects other than herself. She almost forgot what something as simple as water tasted like. Her face shows something because Tom is looking at her with a face of poorly disguised concern. She really has missed him, those faces mean more to her now. She really does love him and she feels that he must feel the same, for now at least…

“Thank you.” She nods. “ I know that you are not only looking to see if there are lingering effects but that is no matter, I will tell you what you wish to know. Only time will tell if I will suffer anything from the new seal. The only effect last time was my inability to age or at least not normally. I think that you wish to know more about what is to come. As I suppose it is obvious that I am from the future now and what you are wondering is if what you fear will come to pass.”

She looks him in the eyes and lets her face soften. “I know that you love him, but you have to put that aside.”

He looks at her like he can’t believe what she is saying. His face goes a little pale and his hands tighten ever so slightly on his robe. He is trying to hide the way that her words have affected him. But even a blind person can tell that he is unsettled that someone else knows. 

“He has killed hundreds. He will kill a thousand more. All for what he twistedly thinks is the right thing to do. He has the wand now, your fight with him will not be easy should you decide to do so. I was hopeful that my presence here might buffer some of his destruction till you made your decision. But I shudder to think what he has done in 6 months.” 

“He has been more active.” Dumbledore lets out a soft breath, it sounds pained, like every word is vile in his mouth to admit them out loud. “I have confronted him once already, I tried to talk him down and out of it. I knew it would fail but I had to try. You are correct that he is far gone. I didn’t think he was capable of killing children...” 

She has never seen Dumbledore’s resolve crack like it has. He seemed very human, old, and she feels for someone that was once someone she called a friend and a teacher. “I don’t think that he ever really loved me back, you know, the promises we made were that of young men and barely adults. He could have been playing me or he could have cared in a twisted way. He has done horrible things, things that terrify me to compare him to the person that I once thought I knew. But even now I do not want to cast a spell that could kill him. “Even after all that he has done.” He sounds awful. “Perhaps that makes me a coward.” 

“No, it makes you human.” Hermione tells him softly, moving to take his hand into hers. “You don’t have to kill him. You only need to stop him. There is no other wizard with the skill at this time.”

She can think of one other person that in a few years probably could. But she would never send Tom to do it. Her heart does ache though for the man that has tightened his hand on hers. 

“I believe that it is time that I make more active moves.” He seems to settle himself, prepare himself that mask of his slides it's way back into place. “You have my thanks, Mrs. Granger. I hope for your speedy recovery.”

She smiles at him. “We are friends I would like to think now, you may call me Hermione. I appreciate any help that you gave to bring me back.”

“That honor goes more to your son. I merely helped go over some of his arrays.” Dumbledore gives a humble reply. 

“I am still grateful.” She insists because she might have mixed feelings about the man but she isn’t foolish enough not to acknowledge that he could have done nothing or turned her in for being a time traveler.

“Your thanks is accepted then, and I shall be in touch.” He dips his head in a goodbye and she can hear him heading down the stairs so that he can apparate. It is comforting to know that her wards are still in place. 

She waits till she can hear the side door close and she slides back down so she is laying down. She feels more tired than she was before. 

“I know that you have your own questions, Tom.” She sighs. “I promise to do my best to answer them, but let me rest first and then eat something.” 

“I wasn’t going to force the answers out of you.” He says quietly he is standing close to her, perhaps too close. His eyes travel to the way that she is spread out before they go back to looking back at her face. But she has seen it. Perhaps she has missed something again the way he shifts a little under her gaze. 

“I am relieved to hear that.” She relaxes and he adjusts the blankets for her. 

“Do you want me to close the window?” He asks as she starts to close her eyes. 

“Yes thank you.” 

~/*\~

She eats and has the feeling she is going to be sick. It's the sort of feeling that one would feel if they have not eaten all day and tried to eat something to stop the headache. Her limbs still feel stiff like they are getting used to a full range of motions. He catches the bowl before she knocks it all over. Its simple soup and she feels like she can not eat it. 

“Here I’ll help you.” He holds it for her, wrapping his hands around hers that are clenching at the bowl. 

She bows her head and thanks him because it is all that she can do. She eats slowly, feeling weak and embarrassed that he has to help her to adjust back to the physical world. He is the only one that can really help her though, so she doesn’t complain. 

She will slowly get her strength back and she can not wait for that to happen. She has always been independent, she would pride herself on that. she really doesn't like being a burden on anyone. Least of all Tom.

He is caring though, very careful, she wonders how much he has had to grow in the last 6 months that he has been alone. Part of her wonders if coming back is worth the pain that she is going to cause him by telling him the truth that he is looking for. 

He calls her Hermione. It is strange to hear him call her that and she can not tell if she hates it or not. It might be easier this way… 

~/*\~

He helps her to walk, her hip giving her the most trouble. “I’ll be okay from here.” She tells him as he sets her down by the tub.

His eyes glance down at her, the red catching the light just right. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” She nods memorized a little by the way that he has changed. “You put me back together well, I am just stiff, there were much worse pains I have felt than this.”

He frowns deeply. “I wish you wouldn’t say that.” 

“It's true though.” She shakes her head, leaning it against the sink cabinets. “Wars are full of pain and death. I didn’t think I would live as long as I have. Thank you for saving me. I didn’t say it before.” 

He smiles at her. “Always.” 

It sounds like a promise and she lets that warm her heart and comfort it. He pulls the curtain so that it will be a shower, he’s not leaving her in a bath. Which is probably smart of him, she doesn’t think that she would drown but the universe really liked to give her curveballs. 

He turns on the water testing the temp holding his hand under until he is satisfied, and then sends Whimsy in to help her undress. She is very relieved by this. She gets clean and it's not as difficult of a task as she is relearning motions. Whimsy is there to help her with her hair. 

She still will need rest after all this but she can enjoy the warm water knowing that she will be fine in a few days of that she is sure. 

~/*\~

Tom has a warm feeling that follows him wherever he goes. It's in his chest and down to his very core. It doesn’t go away even if he is doing things that he normally would have found pretty boring. He finds he doesn’t mind sitting with her, helping her move, or brushing through her long hair. He does not mind cleaning up after her, it's easy with a swish of his wand. He doesn’t mind the chair he has been sitting in for hours. The things that he is doing are for her. And he does not care how terrible he fumbles at it because she doesn’t mind and he has her back. Which is such a comforting thing. 

He almost feels like he will wake from this dream and he will again be back to that numbness. The tiredness is gone, so is that emptiness that has followed him for months. It's only because of her he knows. He has grown to care for her more and more with what he has learned about her through photos, memories, and the amount of care that she has always given him despite his actions against her. Her letters brought him comfort and determination to bring her back. 

He could spend forever doing nothing with her and he would be happy with that. She is beautiful to him, from the way that she hesitantly takes his help to the way that she smiles. And he missed her, he missed her so much that he never thought that he would smile again outside of the curl one that he reserved for anyone foolish enough to have vile intentions trying to trespass onto their property. Only for enemies would he ever give that look.

This is a different type of smile though. It isn’t forced and it is not fake. And he can not stop himself from smiling. Even as he checks the wards by the property lines. He just can’t. 

~/*\~

It's odd to sleep in his old room. He is used to Hermione’s bed. And he knows how that sounds the second that he thinks it. He hits his head into the pillow. Tom is 16, he is a year from the Wizarding world's form of adulthood and he has heard every terrible innuendo that his housemates have come up with. 

It’s just that room had become a comfort in her absence and he knew how it would look if he went about telling her that. 

She said that she missed him but he can sense a reluctance for her to interact with him. He is being too obvious with his warm feelings and he is making her uncomfortable.

It’s not his fault that he doesn’t know how to show how he feels. He doesn’t even know what this emotion is. He hasn’t felt it before. He tightens his hands on his blankets. 

He almost wished it would go away. Things could be more normal then. He can shove it down, these feelings will not ruin anything. He won’t let them. 

~/*\~ 

She spent the next few days in bed and she felt well enough to go downstairs. It is strange that the house is how she remembers it but the hall is hard to be in. 

“You’re still here,” Tom tells her from his place by the table. He pulls the seat out for her and takes a seat himself in the chair that she knows that she had bled on  
.  
She feels memories of that place spilling out but she blinks hard and brings herself back to reality. She is used to these feelings even if she doesn’t like them they just have more fuel now than they had before. 

“Yes.” She sighs and takes her place at the table. “I was thinking that I could answer some of your questions.”

He looks at her as if he is studying her. “You are nervous about telling me.” He puts a lot of cream into his coffee and an amount of sugar that cannot be healthy. He notices her look at his actions and shrugs it off. 

She takes her cup from him and puts probably only a fourth of the sugar into her cup. 

“I am.” She lets out a breath watching the seam raise off of her mug. “But I feel like you should know.” 

He frowns, “Maybe I don’t want to know if you think that it will ruin everything. I know that I am a Guant and that you chose to take care of me, what else is there to know?” 

She chews at her lip. “Why I chose to jump into the past.” 

He lets out a small breath, “I have wondered but I figured that it had to do with Voldemort opposed to Grindlewald like you hinted at for Dumbledore. You have a lot of notes about him, lots of books that might be related to the way he chose to split apart his soul.” 

The way his face twists at the idea of creating Horcruxes relaxes a small part of her. She doesn’t know why exactly. 

“Yes, it had to do with him.” She agrees softly.

“The way that you are saying it makes me think…” He stops the small smile that is on his face vanishes. “Oh, Godric that's it isn’t it.” 

He starts laughing in a very broken way. “You came back to stop Voldemort before he could become a threat and take everyone that you loved from you. But instead, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t kill him so you chose to raise him. Why would you want me to know this? 

His reddish eyes bore into her. 

“I wanted you to know because you are smart Tom and it was only a matter of time before you put the puzzle pieces together.” She does not shy away from the anger or the hurt that is in his voice and face. 

“What were you going to do if I went wrong?” He demands to know, his voice high pitched more like the voice she is used to hearing in her nightmares. 

“Nothing.” Hermione doesn’t shrink back.

“Don’t lie.” He hisses at her. 

“I’m not, you can tell that by looking into my eyes.” Hermione does not wince or flinch by the slight pressure that she can feel.  
“You're not,'' he says softly, shrinking back down into his chair. 

I think by the time that I took you home that I had accepted that even if you were to go wrong as you put it. That I would follow you to the ends of the earth. I wouldn’t ever give up on you. We both were lost. Your mother died giving birth, and your father did not want you. I had no family in this time. Just the mission to kill the dark lord before the death of a thousand people if not more and I didn’t want to live anymore. At that point. I just knew that once I completed the mission I would rest.” 

She feels tears in her eyes. “But you are right I could not do it. I took one look at the place that you were born into and I knew that it was there it would all start. Voldemort grew up in an orphanage he never knew love, he was abused by the caregivers and children that feared his magic, discarded by his magical guardian each summer to go back there to that hell, He was considered a Mudblood in a world that hates them, he went through the blitz alone, he found his family that was left and they did not want him so he killed them and took what he thought he was owed, he tried to get a job at Hogwarts perhaps it was to recruit people for his war, but I think that it would have been the last chance to possible have saved him and he was turned away.”

She does not look at him, she can not look at him. “People are not born evil, to complete that mission would be to kill a child that had never done anything to anyone. A blank slate that could be anything he wanted to be. And so I took you. And told myself. Tom will never grow up abused, he will not think his talents make him a monster, he will never go through the blitz, he will be loved. Because I will love him with all that I am.” 

She did.

And she was. 

He is standing slowly up from his chair. He sits next to her and hugs her. It makes her cry harder because she loves him that much. 

~/*\~ 

He tells her he needs to leave for a little while. He assures her that he has not stopped caring for her. But he needs to sort himself out because his world has shattered at least a few times too many in relatively a short time. He wants to travel for a little bit, learn magic from different parts of the world. 

And she lets him go because she knows that he will come back to her. 

She knows that he will be okay.

She doesn’t want to let him go through because she feels as if she has just got him back. 

But she knows that it is the right thing to do. 

If you love someone that is what you do. 

You let them have their space and their time, but you remind them that you will be there always for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter, next is the Epilogue :D


	29. Epilogue

The outside of her home is all flowers, she has planted over the yard so there are no longer long grasses that blow in the breeze. It reminds her too many times of the fires that have burned her land, and the times that she was stuck in her never-ending loop. 

She maintains her yard with all of her spare time outside of work. She has cut down her activism only acting should there be a need to take on a stand. There are a few things that she is forced to give her opinion on anymore. The war has ended and the world is righting itself out again. Dumbledore has taken his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts and is recognized as a great hero.

She checks in on him every once and a while because she knows that he had to fight someone that he loves, and no one else seems like they would understand why Dumbledore had not celebrated or taken part in any celebrations held because of Grindlewald’s defeat. He took his titles but that was all. 

Taking less interest in politics leads her to plenty of time to make bouquets and sell some of the flowers that she has to people that are having special occasions. Most of the flowers though she keeps for herself and her own enjoyment. She has many trees to trim and many bushes. She takes particular care of the tree that is in the corner of her yard. It is where there is a small headstone for Whimsy. She believes that she would have liked the way the tree bloomed a pure white in the spring. 

She straightens her hat as the evening post drops in with her new owl. There are letters from her friends, as well as Myrle and Edgar. She has received many letters from Tom’s friends. They hear from him a bit more than she does. He checks in on them because they are planning to get married and he has to make sure that they are staying out of trouble, as Myrtle claims that Edgar can not say no to her. 

Hermione gets postcards from Tom, she keeps them on the fridge. They are from everywhere around the world. She smiles at them fondly and enjoys receiving them because she then knows that he is okay. That he is learning things from other magical masters, anything that he is interested in. As she glances at one that is from France and she feels as if he is heading his way back to Britain though she can not be too sure. 

That night she gets a call on the Muggle telephone she picks up as she never gets them, at least not this late from clients from the Muggle village. She keeps close to some of them as she likes to go out for coffee and meals more often as she has to do the housework alone. She brings the people that lost their children for fathers to the war. She doesn’t want to hire another elf to man her home, at least not currently. She misses Whimsy too much and it feels still too soon even if it has been almost 2 years. 

“Hello?” She says into the phone half asleep. 

“Hello.” It is a soft and velvet-like tone. She knows it even if it is a little deeper than the last time that she has heard it. 

“Tom.” She can hardly believe it, her chest tightens but in a good way, her heart picking up with the idea that she can hear him. 

“Hermione.” He greets her. 

And she feels something stir in the way that he says her name. 

“I have thought about things a lot.” He sounds tired though the phone, it almost sounds like it is painful for him to talk to her. “I left a few years ago with the thought that you were too weak to kill someone and that you really should have done it, knowing what I was or could be capable of. But I realized something through my travels.”

She tightens her hand on her skirt, holding the phone a little tighter. 

“I realized that you have to be the strongest person I know, it is one thing to go back in time with the intent to kill. But it takes a stronger person to say no I will not kill this child, I will raise them. Even after everything that had happened to you because of him. You loved me despite it all, every bad decision, and angry outburst, and times that you must have questioned it.” 

His voice tapers off and is cracking a little. “I miss you, I didn’t know how to say it. I wandered the world and I have learned a lot, grown a lot. But I always am a breath away from coming home to see you. But I have been scared to. This attachment to you… I couldn’t bury it. I tried.”

He takes in a very deep breath. 

“It’s alright.” She doesn’t know if it is. “Come home when you are ready.” She tells him. 

He makes a sound that is cut off quickly, probably by a hand over the receiver, “I will.” 

“I love you.” She tells him she has a feeling that he might hang up. 

“I know…” He hesitates, “I love you too.” 

He has never said that to her. She can not name a single time that he has ever said it to her. Even when he was little, she knew that he might have felt it. She could see it in the way that he looked at her, the way that he hugged her. And she can not help the tears and shaky breath that leaves her. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurts as if it is his fault that she is crying. 

“Come home.” She tells him. “Please just come home.” 

“It might be a few weeks, but I will.” He has composed himself again. “I need to go.” 

“I will see you then.” She promises. “Goodbye, for now, Tom.” 

“Goodbye, Hermione.”

The line goes dead, and she rubs at her face drying her tears knowing that she will see Tom soon.  
~/*\~ 

The field is full of sunflowers and other flowers that he does not recognize. There are thousands of them, all different colors. The yellow bleeds into the pink and red. There is blue that climbs high over the fences. They all bend in the breeze, mixing bright hues. It is like a sunset has been planted into the very ground. He brushes a hand against the mailbox. Looks at the handprints that are on it that have faded over the years and sun. 

He pushes on the gate and it lets him in, with a loud squeak the wards still recognize him. It has been 7 years since he has been here. And it has changed only slightly. He looks at the tree that he used to soar over on his broom and his grip tightens a little on his suitcase that he is holding. 

A woman is bent over by a bush she is trimming it, the large yellow sun hat covers most of her face, her hair is tied back in a very long braid. He takes a few steps closer to her. And she turns. She drops the clippers she holding and covers her mouth. Her pretty golden eyes sparkle and she takes a deep breath and she is crying before he can reach her.

“Hermione.” He shakes his head and she is going to make him follow suit.

She reaches out to him to test if he is there by brushing against his arm and then just hugs him with a force that takes him off of his feet he crashes hard and she laughs horrified perhaps. 

“I am glad to see you.” Her face is still that of a young woman and he is glad that she is not wearing glimmers anymore. She is smiling an impossibly large smile even if there are a few tears that are leaking out of her closed eyes by the weight of the smile. 

“I missed you, so much.” He reaches up to hug her back and she lets him cling to her for a very long time before she realizes that they are on the ground still and lets go her hand brushing against the scar that is now on his arm.

She traces the symbols, her eyes widening slightly. 

“I couldn’t leave you to live out eternity alone.” He tells her, helping her to her feet. “You don’t age, and it would be lonely if everyone that you love leaves you. And well there are a lot of things that I want to change about the world that I have spent time learning about and from.” 

“We have a lot to talk about then.” She leans in and kisses him softly against the cheek. It warms him down to his very core, that warmth that he has missed and always feels in her presence returns with a vengeance. 

He lets her lead him inside. They have forever to figure everything out, but he knows that he will not be leaving any time soon. He looks back out at the fields of flowers as he shuts the door behind him. The red and gold bleed together with all the green under a silver sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is the end. I am sort of sorry to see it go. 
> 
> Thank everyone for all your support and love for the fic. 
> 
> If enough people would like I can release deleted scenes that I edited out of the story for flow or because the plot point no longer fit well with the overall narrative. Included into those extras would be Tom meeting Grindelwald, and him getting a bit of vengeance on his classmates. 
> 
> I am also planning on a possible one-shot for this story as well, to show the life after this. 
> 
> If you like this pairing I plan on making more Tom / Hermione fics 
> 
> So hope to see you all again ♥
> 
> Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Comments, Feedback, Kodos, and Questions are always welcome. (However please be constructive if there are things that you do not like. I really enjoy having open conversations on my works, I just have had issues with hate speech (homophobia among other things) directed at myself and other readers. This will not be tolerated and I will be more than willing to delete your comments. Thank you for your understanding.)


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